Madripoor Sling
by Devo Girl
Summary: Part 2 of Hawkeye and Daredevil's super gay romance. Clint convinces Matt to go on vacation with him to Madripoor, but when bullets start flying, it seems this is no ordinary vacation...
1. Chapter 1

This is part 2 of the Devilhawk series. Read Target Practice first! This story is a fixit for the two part Matt Fraction Hawkeye story "The Tape" reimagining Clint Barton's relationship to Madripoor (aka Singapore) but without the racism and Orientalism.

Matt Murdock is working late at the office when he gets a text message from Clint Barton. Using a refreshable Braille display paired with his phone, he runs his finger over the message, then again two more times just to be sure he's really getting it.

_Come with me to Madripoor_, Clint writes.

_What?_

_On vacation. To Madripoor. Come with me._

_Why would I want to do that?_

_Because you haven't had a vacation in forever._

_I mean why would I want to go on vacation in Madripoor of all places? Isn't it a third world hell hole?_

_What are you talking about? It's a modern city! I was stationed there for two years when I was with SHIELD a while back. It's really nice. I didn't realize you were so racist._

_Sorry, I didn't mean that. But wait, isn't it one of those former British colonies that still have sodomy laws on the books?_

_... I don't know, maybe?_

_So why would we go where we can get arrested for having sex?_

_They won't arrest us, I promise. I told you, I used to live there. It's fine. Come on, don't you want to go on a tropical vacation with me?_

_Well, when you put it that way..._

The truth is Matt can't say no to Clint, no matter how outrageous the request. They've been together now for almost a year, although they still haven't made any plans to move in together. Matt has been trying to gently encourage Clint to move out of that fifth storey walk-up in Bed-Stuy for months, but Clint is ridiculously sentimental about it. Matt has no intention of moving there himself, so for now they are just continuing along with their lives in parallel but not really together. Maybe taking a trip will shake things up.

And Matt has to admit the idea of a vacation does sound really good. The weather in New York is cold and rainy. It would be nice to go somewhere warm. Somewhere no one knows him. And he can't think of anyone he wants to be with more. The thought of having Clint all to himself in a wide, cool hotel bed...yes, he would definitely like that.

It takes a few weeks to sort out all the details. Getting the plane tickets is easy, and Clint takes care of the hotel. Convincing Foggy to take over his case load takes longer, but after some extravagant quid pro quo promises he works it out.

The evening before their flight, Clint shows up at Matt's apartment with all his luggage, so they can take a taxi to the airport together.

"What is this?" Matt asks, putting his hands on one of Clint's bags, a long resin hard-sided case. "Are you seriously bringing your bows and arrows? Are you even allowed to bring weapons on the plane?"

"I'm an Avenger," Clint replies, ducking his head with some embarrassment. "I just have to show my ID card and they'll let me check whatever, as long as it doesn't explode."

Clint drops his bags in a corner and stretches out on the couch while Matt, who has not even begun packing, hauls a suitcase out of the closet and starts throwing in some clothes. Then he stops suddenly as if something has just occurred to him.

"Hey," he calls from the bedroom door, making sure he's facing Clint. "I thought this was a vacation. Why do you need your weapons? This _is_ a vacation, right?"

"Sure." Clint is good at controlling his heart rate and respiration when he wants to, and even better at lying without breaking a sweat. It's that whole sniper thing, and before that, the years he spent as a thief. Matt cocks his head to the side ever so slightly, just enough that Clint knows he's trying to read him. Clint lets himself go totally still. "Of course it's a vacation. I just like to have them with me."

"Oookaayyy," Matt says slowly. If he thinks Clint is lying, he gives no indication. He pauses for a second, seeming to decide to just go along with whatever Clint has in mind. "Ok," he says again, "Then if you're bringing your Hawkeye gear, I'm bringing my costume and billy clubs." He turns back into the bedroom and pulls a case out from under the bed.

Clint reluctantly drags himself off the couch and into the bedroom, clicking on the overhead light. "What are you, crazy? You can't wear your costume there."

Matt pulls out the red costume and tosses it onto the bed, where it lands heavily. "Why not?" He tips his chin up in that stubborn way he has.

"Hello! Do you have any idea where we're going? Madripoor is literally on the equator. It's like a million degrees every day of the year. You're going to get heat stroke in that thing."

That deflates some of Matt's righteous indignation. "Oh. Really?"

Clint gives a little sigh of exasperation. "Yes, really! I've never seen you wear anything but a suit and tie, but you really should pack shorts and t-shirts if you have any. Think of the hottest summer day you've ever felt here. And shoes you don't mind getting wet, because it rains like every day. Don't say I didn't warn you." He turns to go back to the couch, but pauses and adds, "If you want to bring your billy clubs you can put them in my case."

They have to take two flights on Madripoor Airlines, first a seven hour flight from JFK to London, then a fourteen hour flight from London to Madripoor. The transfer is a pain in the ass, with a mad dash through the airport trying to find their gate, then the ground crew hassling them about Clint's case full of bows and arrows. The Heathrow gate agents seem markedly unimpressed with Clint's Avengers card, but Matt lawyers their way through with some smooth talking and veiled threats about a diplomatic incident and bad PR for failing to accommodate disabled passengers, while Clint sits back silently and tries not to smirk too obviously. In the end they make it to their plane on time and with all their luggage.

The flight attendants make a fuss over them, which Matt milks shamelessly, giving them his most dazzling grin. They get to board early, and on the second flight somehow they get moved to the bulkhead so they can stretch out their legs. Clint is pretty sure some passengers got bumped to other seats somewhere else on the plane, but he doesn't question it.

Matt smiles some more and they get free drinks handed to them while the other passengers file in to their seats.

They both down their drinks, then Clint taps the back of Matt's hand to get his attention. _I've never seen you work the disability thing so hard_, Clint signs to him.

_Never fail to take advantage of the ignorance of others_, Matt replies.

_O-k smartass. I'm taking these out now_. He pulls out his hearing aids with a little twisting motion. The sound of the engines and the proximity of the headrest creates too much feedback, and anyway the white noise blots out most speech. _Let me know if they say anything important._

_No way, you're on your own. I'll be meditating_, Matt replies.

_What, the entire fourteen hours?_

_If I can._

_Whatever. Knock yourself out. Just remember to get up and walk around every few hours._

Clint leans back and immediately falls into a dreamless sleep. When he wakes up, they're in the air, a flight attendant gently shaking his arm as she serves him a tray of food. Matt waves his away without turning his head or opening his eyes.

While he slowly chews the flavorless meal, Clint stares at Matt's profile. As always, he's amazed, overwhelmed that this gorgeous, perfect, confident person wants to spend time with him. That red hair, that pale skin, that square jaw. His broad shoulders overlap the edges of the uncomfortable seat, and his long legs reach all the way to the bulkhead. Clint is used to blending in, staying unnoticed, but wherever Matt goes, he stands out. People stare like he's a movie star. He complains about the attention but Clint can tell he is secretly loving it.

There's always that moment on these long flights where Clint feels like it's been forever already, but when he looks at the flight log on the video screen, it says ten more hours until they reach their destination. Ugh. He drifts in and out of sleep, but the flight attendants keep waking him up to offer food and drinks normally only given to the first class passengers. He watches some anime movies because they have subtitles so he doesn't have to try to use headphones.

Like clockwork, Matt gets up every hour and makes a circuit around the cabin, then sits back down, still as a statue, his breathing deep and regular. They don't sign to each other. Clint can only imagine what the noise and stale air are doing to his senses.

The plane icon on the flight log inches over the Indian Ocean and at last the map of Southeast Asia starts to come into view. Clint tries not to think about where they are going and why. He still can hardly believe that Matt agreed to come with him. Matt, who claims he always knows when someone is lying. It's crazy how far Matt is trusting him on this.

By the time the plane lands, Clint is nearly in a fugue state brought on by sleep deprivation, vague motion sickness and low oxygen. All the free alcohol the flight attendants gave them followed by watery coffee doesn't help either. Matt seems to be in even worse shape. He barely nods when Clint signs at him that it's time to go.

The moment he steps off the plane, Clint feels the warm, humid Madripoor air all around him, like the hot breath of an animal. That smell of the close, still air immediately takes him back ten years. What am I doing here? Come on Barton, keep it together, he tells himself.

As they stagger through the airport to immigration, Matt hangs on Clint's elbow in a way he has never done before, like he really needs to be guided. The immigration agent doesn't say anything when they both go up to the counter together. He just glances at their photos and stamps the pages. It isn't until he sees the agent say [Welcome to Madripoor] that Clint realizes he forgot to put his hearing aids back in.


	2. Chapter 2

By the third day, Clint is convinced that this entire trip is a disaster, and he wishes he had never brought Matt with him to Madripoor.

On the first day, Clint's only goal is to get them from the airport to the hotel. All he can think of is how good it will feel to sleep lying down instead of sitting up. They are staying at the Bayfront, the biggest, most famous hotel in the entire island city-state. Clint had assumed, wrongly as it turned out, that the taxi driver would be able to get them there with minimal input.

As soon as they drive off, Clint falls asleep, only to be awakened an indeterminate amount of time later by Matt shaking him frantically and signing, _Put your fucking hearing aids in and talk to the fucking driver already_.

In a daze, Clint fumbles around with his bag, and pushes the purple plastic into his ears, wincing at the sudden rush of too-loud noise.

"Where I drop you ah?" the driver asks.

Clint leans between the two front seats, peering out the windshield in confusion. "Where are we? I said the Bayfront Hotel."

"What? I thought you say Bugis lah."

"No! Bayfront, Bayfront!"

"Ok lah! Can, can. I take you there now." The driver makes a sudden u-turn at the traffic light and heads back in the opposite direction. laughing to himself. "Haha, Bayfront! I thought you say Bugis. Hahaha, very different!"

Clint grunts in annoyance. "I'm not paying extra for this."

They finally arrive at the hotel after a thirty minute detour, plus five minutes arguing over the fare. That should have been the first sign that things would not go as smoothly as he expected, but Clint is too tired to think. He gets them checked in, and even though it's only seven in the evening, they both crawl right into bed.

On the second day, they are both feeling dazed and groggy with jet lag. Clint suggests a swim in the hotel pool, figuring the sunlight and daytime activity will help them adjust to the time faster. Also the opportunity to see Matt in a bathing suit is appealing.

The late morning equatorial sun beats down on them, feeling almost like a hand pressing on them as they splash around awkwardly in the water for a few minutes. Matt in a bathing suit is indeed a magnificent sight, but he seems uncomfortable in the water. Bored of swimming, they retire to the deck chairs, where they accidentally fall asleep and get sunburned.

On the third day, Clint feels they should leave the hotel to go do some touristy activity, but he can't think of what. Matt is still acting kind of out of it and uncommunicative. Clint offered to be the tour guide, so it's up to him to decide what to do. The problem is what? Most tourists come here for the shopping or the casinos, but he's not interested in that, and knows Matt isn't be either. The art museum? Definitely no. What do normal people do? He has no idea.

They take the train to the Botanic Garden. It's a relief to get away from the artificial air of the hotel, out into the real world. Jostling up against all the ordinary people on the train, hearing the stop announcements in four languages, brings back memories of his time here. The Malay women in their headscarves and flowing dresses, the Chinese girls in their skimpy shorts, the kids in their school uniforms, the elderly Indian couple both with red lines on their foreheads, the Chinese grandmothers holding red plastic bags bursting with fresh fruit and takeaway, chattering away in Hokkien. Two white guys sweating away in their suits, on their way to the office, reminds him of himself back then. He wants to tell Matt about his time here, what it was like living abroad for the first time, still trying to prove to SHIELD and to himself that he could go legit, that they didn't make a mistake taking a chance on a former thief with a sixth grade education.

But Matt is sitting next to him as unresponsive as a slab of wood. Maybe he's still jetlagged? Clint isn't sure what the problem is but whenever he asks, Matt just says he's fine.

They trudge around the Botanic Garden for a while, but within minutes they are both running rivers of sweat. The sun is brutal, and the hot humid air is completely still, not the slightest hint of breeze. The gardens are beautiful but the plants seem to trap the moist heat around them, the leaves hanging motionless in the stifling air.

Matt hangs on his arm, like he's been doing since they arrived, his face still bright red from the day before. As they wander the paved paths beside jungle vines bearing enormous flowers, Clint isn't sure what to do with him. Is it interesting enough for him to just walk along without seeing anything? Does he want to touch the plants? Or what? It feels weird to ask. Matt is usually so good at saying what he wants, but right now he's not saying anything.

After an hour, the heat is just too much and they decide to leave. But now what? It's still barely lunchtime. The few restaurants just outside the entrance to the Botanic Garden are full of blond expat wives with their yoga mats and babies and purebred dogs, getting fancy coffee. Clint didn't bring Matt all this way just to hang around the same pretentious cafés that are all over New York.

Instead Clint suggests going to a place he knows, and Matt agrees listlessly. So it's back on the train, to a hawker center Tanjong Pagar. The open air food court is massive, but none of the stalls he remembers are there. After wandering about for quite awhile and several failed attempts to explain to Matt in a combination of signing and speech what kind of food is on offer, Clint just goes ahead and orders plates of noodles-char kway teow and bak chor mee, with kopi-o, rich sweet black coffee. The food is delicious, but Matt barely picks at it, and makes a face at the intense sugary coffee. Clint finds himself starting to lose patience.

The rest of the day goes like this. They wander around the neighborhood, but nothing is as Clint remembers. All the places he used to hang out are gone, replaced by the same kind of hipster joints that are taking over Brooklyn. It's not just disappointing, but confusing as hell. Even the train lines have new stops, or maybe he just forgot some of the names.

Making it all so much worse is his crap hearing. He doesn't remember having communication problems when he lived here before. English is one of the official languages, and he still recalls a lot of the local slang. But he didn't anticipate how much harder it would be to decode the clipped, rapid-fire accent now that he's down to twenty percent of normal hearing. Even lipreading doesn't help much. Maybe it's just been too long since he was here last, but trying to order food or ask directions keeps turning into a grueling ordeal.

Of course, Matt is not much help either. He seems to understand the local accent even less, but that doesn't stop him from butting in and second guessing what Clint is trying to say.

After getting lost down a back alley for the third time, Clint finally gives up. It's starting to rain, and he has no idea where the nearest train station is, so he hails them a taxi back to the hotel. Matt sits silently next to him, his eyes closed and head leaning back against the seat. Great. Not only are they having a shitty trip, but they're probably going to break up now. When they get back to the hotel, he'll let Matt know that he can change his ticket at go back home early if he wants.

Well, at least now he can get down to business, without Matt around.


	3. Chapter 3

From the moment he steps on the airplane, Matt Murdock is regretting his life choices. He should never have allowed Clint to talk him into a trip to Madripoor, of all places.

Even with the flight attendants being extra nice, the fourteen hour flight is still like torture. The recycled air mixed with engine exhaust and body odor is bad enough, but the constant noise and vibration makes his radar go haywire. Not for the first time, he envies Clint's ability to turn his ears off.

He does his best to stay focused, using meditation to keep his senses under control, but by the end of the flight exhaustion takes over and he's drifting in and out of sleep. When they step off the plane, his whole body is numb, like he's been vibrated out of phase. The pressure changes have made his ears pop, and he can't seem to focus his radar properly. Everything is just a jumble of sounds that doesn't map out to a clear mental image.

As much as he hates being dependent, he has no choice at the moment but to let Clint take the lead, literally holding onto his arm, but Matt figures at least it will be only for a few hours, until his head clears.

But the next day he's still feeling numb and disconnected from the world, and his radar still isn't working correctly. He says yes when Clint suggests a swim in the hotel pool, even though being in the water only increases his sense of floating detachment, and there's no way he's going to risk irritating his ears further by putting his head under the water. Then he stupidly allows himself to get sunburned, so now on top of everything else, his skin is on fire.

All he wants to do is sleep, but even when he does drift off, he keeps waking up again. Clint snores away like usual, and seems to get over his jet lag by the third day, but Matt knows that won't happen for him. It's a side effect of his blindness; because no light gets to his brain, his circadian rhythms are always off. Since he lost his sight as a child, he goes through periods of insomnia. Maybe that's why he became Daredevil in the first place, after years of sleepless nights, lying in bed, listening to the sounds of the neighborhood, until he just couldn't ignore the cries for help any more.

Well anyway he can't hear anything like that from their room on the fiftieth floor of this ridiculous luxury hotel and with his ears still partially blocked up.

On the morning of the third day, his ears finally open with a loud, painful pop, and the floating feeling dissipates, but somehow it doesn't really help. As he ventures out into the city for the first time, letting Clint take him to some sort of park, he realizes the problem is not his radar malfunctioning, but sensory overload.

It's easy to forget how much of his inner navigation is based not just on his super senses, but on habit and familiarity. He's spent his entire life living in the same six block neighborhood. He knows every building, every crack in the sidewalk. He can tell the time of day by the taste of the air, the vibrations of the subway, the voices and heartbeats around him, the circulation of the traffic. Every sound, every taste, every smell, he knows exactly what it is.

Even when he's gone to other cities in the US, it only takes him a few days before he's reading the new place like a book. In San Francisco, the strong wind blows steady and cold always from the west, over the Pacific Ocean. Living there was really just a matter of memorizing the streets, which are more or less on a grid.

But Madripoor is so far out of his experience; he's never felt anything like this. The hot, humid air is like a physical presence, weighing down on his head, wrapping him in a moist blanket. Even in the hotel room the air smells strange and the water tastes funny. The sheets in the bed, his clean clothes out of the suitcase, everything feels damp.

Out on the street, he's even more disoriented. The traffic flows in the opposite direction, which really shouldn't be that big a deal, but he keeps forgetting and getting startled when he senses cars coming from the wrong side. And it's not just the cars, somehow even people walking on the sidewalk tend to stick to the left. It feels backward.

Even the smells are hard to identify. The hot humid air bears the scent of the ocean and rich loamy plant life, mixed with the usual city scents of exhaust, hot asphalt and sweaty bodies. But there are so many more that he doesn't recognize, unfamiliar plants and food and who knows what.

The city is just as crowded as New York, but here he's surrounded by languages he doesn't know, and they are all different. He can't even adjust his ear to the local language because everyone seems to be speaking with a different accent. Clint claimed that everyone here speaks English, but it doesn't sound like English to him, not even the accented English he hears from immigrants in New York. Just when he's picked up what sound like a few English words, it's followed by other words he can't place.

Even worse, when he asks Clint for explanations, it makes no sense. He can't match up the names and words he's hearing with the fingerspelling Clint provides. But when he asks Clint if he's sure, Clint just gets irritated with him.

And the food is not at all what he was expecting. Like many New Yorkers, Matt likes to think of himself as sophisticated and worldly even without ever leaving the city, because the world comes to him. He has eaten at what he considers the most authentic restaurants in Chinatown, but he still has no idea at all what Clint gives him. Ordering lunch is beyond tedious, as Clint slowly spells out incomprehensible words under his fingers, words that bear no relation to how they sound when Clint places the order. Or maybe Clint is the one getting it wrong, because there seems to be a lot of shouting involved.

Matt has never been so frustrated with his blindness. Surely if he could see the words written out, he could make sense of it faster. His facility with signing has improved greatly, but when it comes to fingerspelling unfamiliar words, he's still stringing the letters together in his mind. It's so slow and he never feels like he's really getting the words right. Or maybe Clint is spelling it wrong.

When the food arrives, it's still not what he was expecting. The mix of sweet and sour, fatty and fishy flavors is overwhelming. At least Clint gets them some coffee. Matt takes a deep swallow, expecting the acrid brew Clint usually favors, then nearly spits it back out. The sweetness is so intense it's nauseating, and there's a strange oily flavor.

"Ugh, what is that? Butter?" he exclaims.

"Yeah, they roast the beans in butter. I like it," Clint says defensively.

"Savages," Matt mutters without thinking, then immediately hopes Clint didn't hear him. He still feels bad about referring to Madripoor as a third world hellhole and he really doesn't want Clint to think he's racist.

Then they're back to stumbling around the streets again, Matt clinging to Clint's elbow. It's painful the way Clint is struggling to figure out where they are, and struggling to be understood when he asks directions. Matt is aching to step in but he's even more lost.

"I know that cheng tng stall was right here," Clint mutters in frustration, after they have walked back and forth on the same block three times. Once again he spells out the word cheng tng for Matt but the letters have no relation to what he says out loud.

"Are you sure that's right?" Matt can't help but ask.

"Yes, I'm sure!"

The air is thick with moisture, unbelievably stifling. It's almost like being underwater. Suddenly, the wind picks up, a blessedly cool breeze, just as fat drops of rain start to fall.

"Shit. Never mind. Let's go back to the hotel."

Matt feels bad for the dejected tone in Clint's voice, but he doesn't have the energy to fake any more enthusiasm. He wants to like it here but every setback just wears on him.

When they get back to the hotel room, his Braille watch is telling him it's barely six pm but his body has decided it's time for sleep. Apparently Clint is still jetlagged too because he doesn't object to skipping dinner and going straight to bed.

Matt would like nothing more than to sleep until morning, but no, at three am his stupid brain decides that sleeping time is over for the night. He lies in bed for a while listening to Clint snoring away until he can't stand it any more. He really needs to clear his head.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

Matt's calm reverie is shattered by Clint yelling in the room behind him. He turns on the ledge and smiles through the window, signing expansively.

_You should come out here, the view is amazing. There's a thunderstorm just off the coast. It's magnificent! _

Clint replies with some obscene gestures and lunges at him, trying to drag him back in through the open window.

"Whoa, hey! Watch it! You're throwing off my balance!" Matt reluctantly climbs back into the room before Clint accidentally knocks him to his certain death.

_What the hell was that?_ Clint signs angrily, pushing his hands against Matt's. _How did you even get that window open?_

_It wasn't locked in any serious way_, Matt replies airily.

_This isn't New York. They don't have costumed superheroes hanging out on every building here. You're going to freak people out._

_I'm not wearing my costume._

_That's even worse! I'm telling you, we can't fuck around here. Remember we're foreigners. The police aren't going to let you off with a wink because you're the hero of Hell's Kitchen. _

_Come on, I was just standing on the ledge. It's amazing out there, even better than the top of the C-h-r-y-s-l-e-r building. Have you ever been up there?_

_I don't care! Please don't do anything that will get you put in jail or d-e-p-o-r-t-e-d. _

_O-k, o-k, sorry. _

_If you really want to leave, I can change your ticket. You can go back home tomorrow. It's o-k._

_What? _Matt is so surprised he thinks maybe he didn't understand the signs properly.

_I know you're not having a good time, so just go._

_What are you talking about? I want to stay with you. _Matt pushes his finger against Clint's chest for emphasis.

_Well you're driving me crazy, so either get over your c-u-l-t-u-r-e s-h-o-c-k already or just go. _Clint's hands are brusque, forceful.

_I'm not leaving early_, Matt repeats.

_O-k, whatever, I'm going back to sleep now. We can argue more in the morning._

Clint waves him off, then falls back into bed, while Matt remains standing by the still open window, letting gusts of damp hot air into the cool room.

Matt had no idea Clint was so annoyed with him, but more than that, he's struck by Clint's words: culture shock. Of course! He's an idiot for not having realized sooner, but this is a problem with an easy solution.

As Clint snores away, Matt gets out his laptop with refreshable Braille display and starts searching the internet for everything he can find on Madripoor: the history as a trading port, the people, the food, all of it. In particular he spends a long time on pages explaining the local dialect, and how Chinese words are rendered in English letters. It all starts to make sense now-once he learns the rules of pronunciation there isn't that jarring disconnect between what he hears and what Clint spells out. He also realizes it's not just some words that come from Chinese, but the whole staccato way of talking, the grammar and the use of tag words at the end of sentences that indicate emotion. No wonder it didn't sound like English to him at first, but now that he knows some of the basic patterns it starts to fall into place. All the little irritants and frustrations that had been piling up suddenly transform into bits of data to be understood, decoded, categorized. For the first time since they arrived, he feels invigorated, excited.


	4. Chapter 4

Matt bounces energetically around the hotel room, clearly feeling refreshed from sleeping in. Clint isn't sure which is more irritating, mopey overtired Matt or excited, overenthusiastic Matt.

"I'm tired of the hotel buffet breakfast. Let's go to another hawker center," Matt announces, as he pulls on his baseball cap and round red sunglasses.

"It's two pm," Clint points out.

"Oh. Ok, a late lunch then! I'm starving!"

"Um, there aren't really any good hawker centers near here. This neighborhood is too fancy. It's all malls and chain restaurants."

"So lead the way! You're the tour guide, right?"

They head over to Geylang for bowls of laksa, noodles and prawns in a spicy, fishy coconut milk soup, with sides of roast chicken.

To Clint's surprise, Matt polishes his off with a grin.

"I thought you didn't like the local food?"

"I just needed to adjust my palate. They really like strong flavors here." He rambles on about flavor profiles and lists of things he wants to try.

Clint tunes him out, thinking about his plan for the afternoon. It's nice that Matt is finally making an effort but honestly it would have been easier without him. Whatever. Clint decides he's done playing tour guide. Time to get down to work.

After lunch, they hop in a taxi and Clint gives the driver an address in Jurong West. As they head west, Clint keeps his eyes on the road ahead, not saying anything. Matt lets his head drift down and to the right, listening carefully outside the car, but if he recognizes that they are going far from any tourist attractions, he doesn't let on.

The taxi drops them in front of a sprawling complex of low, nondescript buildings. They walk around for another few minutes until Clint can find the entrance. He pushes the door open, but there's nothing inside. It takes a few minutes for his eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight outside to the darkened room. He pauses uncertainly in the middle of the room, Matt still hanging on his arm. Now what?

As Clint is trying to figure out his next move, Matt pushes his hands against his. _Wow, empty warehouse. You sure know how to show a guy a good time,_ Matt signs at him.

_Shut up! I just... hey, can you use your powers? Is there anyone here?_

Matt pauses, swiveling his head around like a cat. _No_. He inhales deeply. _But there were people here recently. And explosives._

_Shit!_ Clint spots a staircase in a far corner, and takes off, leaving Matt to trail behind him. As he hoped, the stairs lead up to the roof, but the low building doesn't provide much view of the area. Not that there's anything to see, except for more deserted warehouses.

"Hey!" Matt yells, coming up the stairs behind him. "Hey!" Clint turns around reluctantly to face him. "So now can you please tell me what's really going on here?"

Clint rubs the back of his neck. "Um, Avenging?"

"I knew it! I knew this was more than just a vacation." Thankfully Matt doesn't seem too angry about Clint's little lie.

"Kingpin is expanding his network globally, trying to cut deals with Chinese triads. We got intel that he's laundering his money here, so they sent me to check it out because I've lived here before. But so far I've got no leads."

Matt grins. "I knew you weren't paying for that hotel yourself. The whole thing says expense account. But Stark could have at least sprung for us to fly business class."

Clint just shrugs.

"Ok, so we go after them together!" Matt continues. "But you know I would have come with you anyway. You didn't need to make up a story about going on vacation. Why didn't you just tell me this is the reason we're here?"

"Uh..." Clint hangs his head, looking up at Matt. "Because this actually isn't the real reason I'm here..."

"What?"

Clint heaves a reluctant sigh. "There's someone we need to meet."


	5. Chapter 5

The flat is on the fourteenth floor of an aging public housing estate in Toa Payoh. Clint leads Matt down the familiar hallway to the unit. The front door is open but the metal gate is shut. Around the front door are splashes of red paint and graffiti that says O$P$.

Clint rings the bell, and a woman in her early thirties comes running to open the gate. Her tiny shorts show off her long slender legs, topped with an equally tiny loose-fitting blouse that leaves little to the imagination, and her long glossy black hair skims her butt. She has a sharp, angular face like a cat, but lights up with a huge toothy grin when she sees him, and launches herself into his arms.

"Clint! Long long no see! I so happy to see you lah."

Blushing, Clint extricates himself from her bony embrace and steps back. "Matt, this is Tan Ai Ming," he says, gesturing. "Ai Ming, this is Matt Murdock."

"Wah lau, so handsome one!" she exclaims, shaking his hand with both of hers, snaking one hand up his arm.

"Nice to meet you," Matt murmurs, nonplussed.

"Come in, come in," she says, tugging at his arm, as Clint instructs him to remove his shoes first.

They awkwardly pull off their shoes in the hallway and stumble into the apartment. It's just as Clint remembers-the white tile floor, the teak furniture, the jade knick-knacks and batik wall hangings. Ai Ming leads them past the brown leather sectional sofa to the big dining room table.

As Matt sits down, he takes his folded cane from his back pocket and places it on the table. Ai Ming watches him, her eyes going wide. Clint can practically see the light bulb go on above her head. Matt had already folded up his cane and put it in his back pocket before she came to the door, so she probably hadn't noticed it.

Matt clearly clocks her sudden intake of breath and change in attitude as well.

"You're-" she gasps.

"Blind, yes," he cuts her off with an irritated frown, as he removes his cap and runs a hand through his coppery hair. He doesn't take off his red sunglasses.

While Ai Ming stands there gaping at them, another girl joins them from one of the back rooms. She has the same even features as Ai Ming, but she's rounder and shorter. She's wearing a frilly, girly dress that makes her look kind of like a doll, and her long hair is bleached blond, with pink at the ends.

As she approaches the table, Ai Ming grasps her arm, never taking her eyes off Matt.

"He tio blind leh," she hisses in a loud whisper.

The girl ignores her and calmly extends her hand across the table. "Hello, I'm Xin Yi."

Matt's annoyed frown eases as he shakes her hand. "Matt Murdock. Nice to meet you, Shinny."

"Whoa, you're Xin Yi? I didn't recognize you at all!" Clint stares at her in amazement. The last time he saw her, she was a shy teenager in a high school uniform. She must be in her mid-twenties now, so why is she dressed like a Victorian child?

Xin Yi sits down primly, smoothing her frilly skirts. "So nice to see you again, Clint," she says evenly.

"You look...different," he can't help saying.

"We all different now hor," Ai Ming remarks tartly, looking straight at Clint, then flicking her eyes to the side for a second. He knows she's checking out his purple hearing aids. That look on both their faces, it's the same awkward, pitying look Kate kept giving him before she left for LA. It makes him want to crawl under the table.

"Have you offered our guests anything?" Xin Yi murmurs to her older sister, prompting Ai Ming to jump up and disappear into the kitchen, shrieking "Tita!" Clint catches a glimpse of the middle aged Filipina maid.

"So..." Matt drawls, but he doesn't need to even finish the sentence. Clint knows he means: when are you going to tell me what the hell we're doing here.

Clint heaves a sigh. "So, um, I got to know the Tans when I was living here before. Mr. Tan ran a stall at the hawker center near where I was staying, selling kueh."

"What's gway?"

"Kueh." Clint spells it quickly into Matt's hand under the table. "It's a kind of local dessert. They made it really good. The stall was kind of famous. Anyway the kids helped out at the stall and I got to know them, Ai Ming, Xin Yi and their brother. Well, he was doing his two years' military service at the time so he wasn't there much..." Clint trails off, realizing he's rambling and not getting to the point.

Ai Ming reappears with a tray, and Xin Yi carefully pours them jasmine tea and serves it with little plates of kueh, colorful squares of steamed rice flour and tapioca. It's sweet and a bit salty, flavored with coconut and pandan.

"I was very sorry to hear about your father," Clint mumbles around a sticky bite.

"Thank you," Xin Yi says formally, while Ai Ming sighs and looks away.

"He died last year," Clint explains to Matt. "And-"

Xin Yi cuts him off suddenly. "Jun Jie in London now. He got married six months ago."

"Oh." Clint blinks in surprise. "I didn't know."

Ai Ming breaks in impatiently. "That not why we call you here lah. We owe ah long, cannot pay loh."

"Ah long means loan shark," Clint explains to Matt, then turns back to Ai Ming. "I saw the paint when we came in."

"Aiyoh, they kena splash paint liao. Harass even the neighbors. We so paiseh."

"What?" Matt was following along well enough but now he seems lost.

"It's the way these assholes put pressure on people," Clint tells him. "They splashed paint all around the front door and wrote graffiti that means 'owe money pay money,' and while they do it they yell and make a lot of noise, embarrass them in front of the neighbors."

"Isn't all that illegal?" Matt asks. "Why not just go to the police?"

Ai Ming snorts. "Police no use lah. We call already. They make report, then put aside. Ah long come up the house every day, then how? Police cannot come every time."

"Wait, so how did this happen?"

Ai Ming launches into an angry tirade, peppered with Hokkien and Malay words, her machine-gun accent even faster than usual. It takes a long time to piece together, with an embarrassed Xin Yi reluctantly providing details. Eventually they figure out that the year before he died, Mr. Tan fell prey to a loan offer on his mobile phone. The loan shark had an impressive looking website, so he didn't realize until too late it was an illegal operation. Ai Ming is even more angry because the loan wasn't necessary-business had been good, and they opened in three locations, but her father wanted to use the money to expand even more. Instead, he got caught in a nightmare spiral of impossible interest, with the debt being passed along to other illegal ah longs. He died of a heart attack, officially ruled as natural causes, but Ai Ming is certain it was brought on by the stress of the constant harassment by the loan sharks, whom she curses colorfully. Now that he's gone, the debt has been passed on to the daughters. Ai Ming has been running the business, and they have employees working the stalls, so there is money coming in, but never enough, and lately the harassment has escalated.

"Every day got these messages," Xin Yi says sadly, showing Clint her mobile phone.

"Oh my god."

"What?" Matt prompts him with some irritation.

Ai Ming snatches the phone and reads out in sneering, mocking tones, "If don't pay, you better stand by water for your burning house! You think ah long is charity ah? Sibei scared? Try me, I will torture you until you die!"


	6. Chapter 6

"Do you think those threats are serious?" Matt asks Clint the next day over breakfast in the hotel.

Clint shrugs. "Dunno. Usually they just harass the victims to make them pay. If they kill the victim they can't get more money."

"So you don't think they're in danger? Why did you agree to fly all the way out here?"

"I'm just trying to do the right thing, you know?" He rubs the back of his neck. "Ai Ming has kept in touch with me over the years."

"She's quite something." Matt's face remains neutral, but somehow Clint gets the impression Matt doesn't like her.

"Yeah, she can be a bit much. But she asked for my help, and at the same time the Avengers got this request through SHIELD for a Madripoor job so I volunteered. I dunno, I just thought I could do something for them."

"And what about that threat to set their apartment on fire? Do you think that's for real?"

Clint toys with his empty coffee cup. "There are a lot of rumors that loan sharks do that but I'm not sure how often it really happens. It might just be a scare tactic."

"Hm. And the police really won't do anything?"

"Come on, you know even in the US the police don't always respond to this low level street stuff. That's the whole reason you do what you do, right? Anyway the attitude seems to be that if you're stupid enough to borrow money, you deserve what you get."

Matt doesn't say anything, but his jaw tightens. Clint can tell he doesn't like the sound of that. Well, at least his protective instincts appear to have kicked in. Maybe it wasn't a mistake to bring him along after all.

They head back up to their room, and Matt turns on his laptop. "Ok Hawkeye," he says with obvious anticipation, "So we've got two jobs. One, figure out where the Kingpin is laundering his money. Two, get the loan sharks to leave those girls alone. You're the one who's always saying we need to make a plan. So what's the plan?"

"What are they saying?"

"I don't know. They're not speaking English."

Clint pretends to stare at his phone while checking out the four creeps sitting a few tables away. They're all wearing flashy, shiny suits and too much hair gel. He could be wrong but somehow from their clothes and attitude they don't seem like locals. Could these be the Hong Kong triad goons they're looking for?

The plan, at least for now, is to go after the money launderers first. Clint hits up his contacts at SHIELD for intel, but it takes some time since it's still the middle of the night in the US. Eventually after some arm-twisting on a low level operative he gets an address in the central business district.

Before they hit the streets, Clint has a lengthy argument with Matt about what to wear. Matt wants to wear his costume, of course, even though there's still at least another hour of daylight. Clint points out that in addition to passing out from the heat, the costume is much too conspicuous. Is Matt really trying to get deported?

Matt concedes but suggests wearing the costume under his clothes, which apparently he does all the time. Clint thinks that is crazy, and also again, heat stroke.

Clint wears his chevron because it has short sleeves but provides some protection. He tries to convince Matt to wear his spare one, but Matt is not having it.

_Purple clashes with red_, he insists with a stubborn set to his jaw.

_What do you care? _

_I wasn't always blind, remember? I know what colors are. Anyway I'm not wearing your clothes._ He tosses the shirt back at Clint.

_Fine. Do whatever you want._

Matt puts on his costume under his clothes, which means he has to wear long pants and a long sleeve button down shirt. At least he skips the jacket and tie this time.

The truth is no matter what they wear they will stick out, two big white dudes, one with blond hair and one well over six feet with bright red hair, plus the white cane and the purple hearing aids and the tactile signing that makes everyone stare at them even back home. They agree to stick to speech as much as possible, and Matt puts on his cap and sunglasses, as if that will make him any less conspicuous.

They take the train to Raffles Place but by the time they arrive many of the office workers are heading home. Intending to scope out the address, they take the elevator up to the twentieth floor of a high rise office block but just as they arrive, four dudes file out of the nondescript office with the sign Lion City Enterprises on the door.

There's no way to know for sure if these guys have any connection to the Kingpin but it's their only lead, so they follow them out onto the street, through Chinatown. Luckily Matt can trail them from a distance, so hopefully they remain out of sight and unnoticed.

"Why is there a Chinatown in Madripoor?" Matt muses as they squeeze their way through the crowded streets. "Isn't the whole country Chinatown?"

Maybe he assumed Clint wouldn't hear him out on the noisy street, but he does, and drives his elbow sharply back, poking Matt hard in the ribs, just to let him know. "Would you listen to yourself? Why do you have to be so racist? And can you please focus? Where are they?"

"Ok, ok. Take a left up ahead."

They follow the dudes to a trendy little restaurant with sidewalk seating on Amoy Street. It's a colorful spot-the narrow street lined with nineteenth century shophouses, brightly painted two and three storey buildings with narrow, ornate shuttered windows. The red tile sidewalk is covered by the joined roofs with archways in between, and the restaurants all expand their tiny interiors by throwing open the doors and placing tables all the way out to the street.

In contrast to the antique buildings, the restaurants are mostly hipster joints, the same kinds of places that have taken over Brooklyn. Matt is uninterested in the Argentinean-Korean-Indian fusion menu, but Clint orders a few things so the server won't make a fuss that they are taking up a table during the dinner rush.

"It would have been easier to stakeout from the roof," Matt grumbles. He's sitting with his back to the creeps, still wearing his cap and sunglasses even though it's now fully dark. Luckily with all the white tourists and hipsters in this neighborhood, he stands out a bit less. He only picks at the food, but downs round after round of IPA.

"No we can't. The building is only two stories. They would totally see us, and we would have to walk through someone's home to get up there," Clint points out. "We're supposed to be blending in, remember?"

Matt snorts. "Please, like people aren't staring you with that enormous bow and quiver on your back."

Clint pretends not to hear him, concentrating on watching the four dudes. The dudes are in no hurry, and they don't seem to be talking about work. They're laughing and relaxed, but of course neither Matt nor Clint have any idea what they're saying.

"I think they're speaking Chinese," Matt observes.

"'Chinese' isn't a language. Is it Mandarin, Cantonese, Hokkien, or what?"

"How should I know?" Matt snaps back with irritation. "Can you tell?"

"No," Clint admits.

"Ugh, they could have at least picked a restaurant with air conditioning," Matt complains, taking another swallow of beer and wiping the sweat from his face. "How is it hotter at night than in the daytime?"

"I told you not to wear that. Can you at least tell if it's the same guys from the warehouse?"

"No, but they've definitely been handling explosives and one of them has a gun."

"Shit! Why didn't you say so sooner? It must be the same guys." Trying to move unobtrusively, Clint eases one of the arrows out of his quiver and holds it across his lap, fiddling with it under the table. "Ok, on my mark, you create a distraction." Clint waits for the server to finish his rounds and disappear in the back, then quietly counts to three.

Matt jumps up, scraping his chair loudly behind him, and shouts, "Look! Up in the sky!" pointing dramatically with one finger.

There's a moment of stunned silence as the other diners stare at Matt, then look up. A moment later they start murmuring in confusion, but it's just enough time for Clint to flick something tiny across the tables unnoticed.

"Sorry, my mistake," Matt says loudly, sitting down again.

"What the hell was that?" Clint hisses at him.

Matt shrugs. "That's all I could think of. What did you do?"

Hoping his voice is low enough that no one else can hear him, Clint explains, "I took the tracking device out of an arrow and flicked it into the shirt pocket of the guy on your left. Can you hear it?"

Matt puts his head down and cocks an ear behind him to the left. "Oh, so that's what that noise is. He seems calm, like he never noticed."

"Good. I can track them on my phone, see where they go." Clint pulls his phone out of a pocket. "Oh shit."

"What?"

"I got another text from Ai Ming. Says the ah longs have come up the house again."

"You want to go check on them?"

Clint squirms in his chair. "I think I should."

Matt nods seriously. "Yes, you go. I'll stay here and follow these goons."

"Ok, but remember no costumed heroics, ok? Don't engage. Just find out where they go then come meet me. Promise you won't do anything to get your ass thrown in jail."

"I promise," Matt smirks.

"If you get lost just have a taxi take you to the Bayfront Hotel."

"Ok, ok! I'll be fine. You go rescue the girls, Hawkeye."


	7. Chapter 7

By the time Clint arrives at the flat in Toa Payoh, the ah longs are gone, leaving fresh graffiti behind on the walls around the door.

"Clint! You come! Thank you!" Ai Ming launches herself at him before he can even remove his shoes, wrapping her long arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. He gently disengages and steps inside.

"Do you ever close the door?" As usual, the front door is standing wide open. Only the ornate metal grate separates the flat from the hallway, although there are piles of shoes on several shoe racks, chairs and some potted plants extending their living space into the hallway.

"Why ah?"

Clint just sighs and rolls his eyes. How is he supposed to protect them if they won't even take the simplest precautions?

He sits at the big round dining table and Xin Yi serves him tea and kueh. She looks pale, although it's hard to tell under all that girly makeup.

"Ok, so tell me what happened," he says around a mouthful of sticky rice and coconut.

"The same already, so terrible lah!" Ai Ming pauses and bats her long fake eyelashes at him. "Where your ang moh friend meh?"

Clint narrows his eyes at her. "Did you call me here just so I would bring Matt?"

"No, I joking only! Ang moh mean 'white person' and 'red hair.' So funny one!" When Clint and her sister fail to laugh, Ai Ming pouts at them. "Why cannot make joke ah?"

"You asked me for help, so do you want it or not?" Clint doesn't try to hide his annoyance.

Xin Yi mumbles something but she's looking down in her lap with her hair around her face, so he doesn't catch it.

He slaps his hand on the tabletop, which makes her look up sharply. "Hey, I'm deaf now, remember? You have to look right at me when you're talking."

"I'm sorry." Her face flushes dark pink. "I forgot."

He turns red too, even though there's no reason to. How many times has he had this conversation with people who knew him before? It never gets easier.

But instead of the pitying look, Xin Yi's eyes are imploring. "I said, we do need your help even though it's so paiseh, I mean embarrassing. And scary. I'm sorry my sister acting so rude but she's scared too."

"Han na!" Ai Ming snorts, looking away.

"Please, Clint," Xin Yi continues, speaking deliberately but not shouting or over-exaggerating the words. "Before we just ignored, but now getting worse lah. The guys who come today were different, more scary."

Suddenly Clint's tactical instincts kick in. "Different how exactly?"

"They are not local, not the same ones who come before."

"Are you sure? Could you tell where they're from?"

"Confirm they from Hong Kong," Ai Ming replies.

It's past midnight by the time Matt returns to the hotel room. Clint breathes a sigh of relief when Matt walks in through the door still wearing his regular clothes rather than swinging in through the window.

_What happened?_ Clint signs before Matt can even sit down.

Matt makes a face as he strips off his shirt and pants to reveal his costume underneath and collapses heavily on the designer sofa, his mouth moving in what looks like the shape of curse words. "They split up," he explains, speaking more clearly and adding some signs. "I let the one with the tracker go because I figured you could find him later."

Clint pulls out his phone and checks. _No movement for the past three hours. He's in H-o-u-g-a-n-g. That's a residential neighborhood. It must be where he lives. What about the others?_

"One guy went back to the office, so I followed the other two. They got in a taxi. I couldn't ask another taxi to follow them without being noticed and you said no swinging from buildings or hanging on the roof of their car."

_So you lost them?_

"Let me finish. I waited a few minutes then on a hunch I took a taxi back to the warehouse in Jurong. They were there."

_O-k, thank you! Let's go._

"No, there were a lot of people there, including the muscle. I think they're expecting a shipment soon, from what I could overhear that was in English."

_So we need a plan. If we wait until the shipment is delivered maybe we can catch them in the act and get them arrested... _Clint trails off. Matt's hands are still on his but he can tell by the tilt of Matt's head that he isn't paying attention.

_Hey._ Clint shakes Matt's hand. _Hey, what's going on? Why haven't you taken your costume off?_

_They're here. _Matt pulls his cowl up over his head.

_Shit! They followed you? How?_

Matt wriggles his hands into his red gloves then nods one fist. _Yes. I don't know. Six of them, in the hallway._

_Think we can take care of this without anyone calling hotel security?_ Clint is not hopeful but if anyone knows how to be stealthy it's Matt.

_We can try,_ Matt replies, his mouth settling into a tight line.

There's a loud banging on the door. Matt nods silently, and Clint opens it. In the hallway are two of the guys from the restaurant with four others dressed just like them in flashy suits, but much bigger and more muscle-bound. One of them is holding what looks like a high tech t-shirt cannon. Seriously, where do these losers get their tech?

Clint gives them a cocky grin. "I don't remember ordering room service." He tries to close the door again but the first guy pushes his way in.

In retrospect, Clint realizes it would have been better to let Matt open the door, that way he could have at least gotten a few arrows off before the goons made their move. As it is, they are in the hotel room swinging. Non-powered dudes like this really shouldn't be a problem for either of them but they're pulling their punches, trying to keep things quiet. So it's not going great.

Then the guy with the weird looking cannon plants himself in the doorway and turns it on. There's an almost visible pulse that ripples through the room. Clint feels the high-pitched squeal of feedback from his hearing aids, then the world goes silent. He glances over to see Matt rolling on the floor in agony, clutching his ears.

Ok, this looks bad.

Clint is still frozen in place when a purple blur appears at the open window and suddenly four guys are down at once, arrows sticking out of non-lethal points.

_Katie!_

She nocks two more arrows and takes out the other two in the shoulder and knee. Clint isn't sure if he made a noise or not but all the air has rushed out of his chest so maybe he shouted something.

_Hurry up, this way_, she signs, gesturing toward the window ledge. While the goons are temporarily incapacitated, Clint grabs his bow and quiver from the coffee table, then heaves Matt to his feet and onto the window ledge. Matt seems woozy and disoriented but he follows along where they guide him. Clint isn't sure what the sonic pulse did to Matt's hearing or his radar but he really hopes Matt's aware enough not to fall since they're fifty stories up.

The ledge is wide enough to walk on easily but they shuffle along slowly, Matt behind Katie with his hand on her shoulder, and Clint following him, trying to somehow guide him from behind. Matt never hesitates, but just follows where they guide him. Kate leads them two rooms down to another open window, and they tumble in onto the floor of an identical suite.

Frantically, Clint pushes his hands under Matt's. _Hey, hey, are you o-k? Can you hear anything?_

Matt's hands drift uncertainly at first, then with more focus he pulls off his gloves and replies, _I'm o-k. Hearing and radar were out for a few minutes but they're coming back already. You?_

_I'm fine. You rest now._

_The guys-?_

_Katie took care of them. _

Matt smiles weakly. _I thought I recognized her. What's she doing here?_

_No idea. You go lie down now, o-k? We'll figure it out after you've recovered._

For once, Matt doesn't fight him on this, but allows Clint to lead him to the bedroom where he collapses on top of the bedspread.

Back in the living room, Clint finds Kate putting the phone down.

_Thanks, Hawkeye. You saved me again_, he signs at her with a grin.

_Someone has to do it, since you obviously can't be trusted to take care of yourself_, she replies with quick, assured signs.

_Wow, your signing has gotten a lot better_, he can't help but comment.

_I took a class_, she admits, suddenly blushing.

_Good thing, since those assholes fried my hearing aids. What the hell was that?_

_S-o-n-i-c p-u-l-s-e_, she spells smoothly, without even looking at her hand. She really has gotten better. _I think. Don't you have spare hearing aids?_

Clint looks up at the ceiling. _I don't know, maybe? In my suitcase? Which is in our room._

_Fine, I'll go get it._ She hops up onto the window ledge again.

_Wait, what about those guys? Are we even safe here? It won't take them long to figure out where we went._

_Relax._ Kate rolls her eyes at him. God, he's missed her so much. _While you were talking to your boyfriend I called the police to come arrest them. Illegal weapons, v-i-s-a v-i-o-l-a-t-i-o-n-s, I'm sure we won't be seeing them again for a while._

Clint grins at her. _I could kiss you._

_Yuck! Stop!_ She sticks her tongue out, an exaggerated look of disgust on her face.

Instead he grabs her in a big bear hug, and she hugs him back. He pulls apart again to sign, _I missed you._

_I missed you too. I'm sorry. I just needed some time._

_It's fine. I understand._ They grin at each other like two happy idiots.


	8. Chapter 8

"Thank you for letting us stay here," Clint says to Ai Ming and Xin Yi as they all sit around the big round table at the flat in Toa Payoh. He hates using his voice when he can't hear himself at all. That floating sense of unreality is creeping back in, and he has no idea if he's too loud or too soft or even forming the words correctly.

[You...welcome...stay as long...want...no...]. Even staring intently at Xin Yi's lips as she's speaking he still is only getting half or less of what she's saying.

"Thanks," he says again, unconsciously adding the ASL sign. She mimics him uncertainly, putting her flat palm to her lips then pulling it away again.

Someone must have said something because suddenly everyone is laughing.

Shit. It was his idea for all three of them to move into the Tans' apartment. Katie was in favor of checking into a different hotel under a false name, but Clint is worried about Ai Ming and Xin Yi. If the same creeps are after them too, he'd rather be there to protect them, since the ah longs are certain to show up again.

But he didn't think until they arrived what a nightmare communication would be. Ai Ming and Xin Yi don't know how to sign at all, and even if they did, Madripoor has its own sign language that's different from ASL. Katie seems a lot more fluent in ASL now but Matt can't follow too well without tactile signing and when his hands are covering Clint's, Katie seems to have trouble seeing all the signs clearly. The same goes for when Kate signs to Clint; Matt can't follow. Not to mention the Tan girls' thick accents. Xin Yi speaks more clearly when she's addressing them, but Ai Ming can't seem to drop the dialect words. It's hard to lipread either of them, and Kate and Matt don't seem to understand Ai Ming at all.

Clint watches them all say a few more incomprehensible sentences, trying to connect the mouth shapes to any words that might make sense but it's no good, he's completely lost the thread of the conversation. He stands up abruptly and walks off without a word to one of the bedrooms.

Xin Yi kindly offered to double up in the master bedroom with Ai Ming, giving Kate her room, so that leaves Matt and Clint to share Jun Jie's old room. Clint throws himself on the bed, trying not to look at the old graduation photos and school medals on the wall. He stares up at the ceiling, willing his mind to go blank. What the hell is he doing here?

Without warning, Matt's face looms into his field of vision, making him jump a little.

_You o-k?_ Matt asks.

Clint pokes his thumb at his chest, his palm open flat. _I'm fine_. _You?_

_My ears are still ringing but hearing and radar are o-k. _Matt pauses then as if he can't help himself adds, _How could you forget to pack your spare hearing aids?_

This is like the third time Matt has scolded him and Clint is fucking done. He gives Matt the finger and rolls over, closing his eyes.

Back in the dining room, Kate looks with concern at the closed bedroom door. "We've got to do something. Isn't there anyplace he can get his hearing aids fixed?"

Ai Ming shrugs. "Dunno leh."

But Xin Yi swipes energetically at her phone. "Look, there is Deaf Association, got repair service in Mountbatten. We can all go together."

"Today Saturday ah," Ai Ming points out.

"Oh, correct. Must wait until Monday then. Sorry." Xin Yi clicks her phone off, looking at Kate apologetically.

Kate sighs. "Ok, thanks. That's better than nothing. You sure you don't mind us all crashing here like this?"

Xin Yi smiles. "Not at all. It's our pleasure to host the Avengers," she says in her poshest accent, while her sister rolls her eyes.

"I'm not really..." Kate blushes, but Xin Yi just waves her protest away.

"Please stay long as you like."

"Thanks again for letting me take over your bedroom."

"No problem. Sorry I got so many camera, microphone everywhere. I use them to make video, but can put aside while you stay here."

"Video? What kind of video?" Kate stares at Xin Yi curiously.

"Aiyoh, so paiseh!" Ai Ming cuts in. "She blur like sotong, make video sian jit pua, damn boring!"

Xin Yi glares at her, then primly straightens her lacy skirts. "I make ASMR videos," she explains.

Kate's eyes go wide. "Wait, you're THAT Xin Yi?"

"Wah lau, you know her video is it?" Ai Ming looks impressed.

"I didn't know that's how you say your name," Kate mumbles to herself, then adds, "You're, like, super famous on the internet."

Xin Yi blushes furiously, looking down at her lap and fiddling with her skirt.

Sunday morning everyone wakes up out of sorts. There's a line for the bathroom and it seems to take everyone forever to get ready. The flat is not as intensely air conditioned as the hotel was; the girls seem to prefer to open the windows and use fans instead. The moment Clint steps out of his long-awaited shower, he's sweaty again, his skin covered in moisture that never seems to dry.

After his shower, Clint joins Matt at the table for coffee, toast and eggs set out by the maid.

_What are you wearing?_ he demands as he pulls out a chair. He can tell that Matt has his costume on under his clothes again.

Instead of answering, Matt signs, _Don't scrape the chair so loud. There are people in the apartment under us, you know._

Clint takes a long gulp of coffee then pushes his hands against Matt's. _Hey, what's your problem? You've been a pain in the ass since yesterday. _

_It's nothing_. Matt pulls his hands away, but Clint tugs them back.

_Hey, no. You're not the only one who can tell when someone is lying. What the hell?_

_I don't like staying with your ex-girlfriend_, Matt signs, his hands moving stiffly.

_What? No no no no! You mean A-i M-i-n-g? She was never my girlfriend._

_Are you sure? Because she's definitely attracted to you._

_What are you talking about?_

_I can tell when someone is aroused. There are certain...physical signs. I can be more specific..._

_NO! Yuck! Stop! I don't want to know!_

Matt smiles thinly at the vehemence of Clint's reaction, but he's still not convinced. _There's still something you're not telling me._

_Give me a fucking break! The past is the past. Go stay in a hotel if you want but I'm staying here._

_Fine. I'm sorry. So what's the plan, Hawkeye?_

_I don't know. You tell me if you hear those guys are coming, then I shoot them in the face with an arrow._

Matt cocks an incredulous eyebrow. _Bold plan_. Then he puts his head down, cocking an ear this way and that like he does when he's really straining his senses.

_What is it?_

Instead of answering, Matt stands up abruptly and strides to the open window.

"Hey! What's going on!" Clint demands, grabbing his bow and arrows as he joins Matt by the window.

Matt gestures to the distant sidewalk below. As he pulls on his archer's gloves, Clint stares at the figures standing around outside. They look like triad gang members, although from fourteen stories up he can't be sure if they're the same ones from before. Shit! How are they here already? He was so careful on the way over here to be sure they weren't being followed.

As Clint is thinking all this over, Matt has already shucked off his civilian clothes and pulled on his cowl with remarkable speed. It's like one smooth, sinuous movement. Then before Clint can even ask what the hell he's thinking, Matt throws himself out the window head first, his hands pointed over his head like an Olympic diver.

"Hey!" Clint shouts in what feels like his loudest voice, although he can't be sure. "Your shooooooes!"

He leans out the window just in time to see Matt reach for the long pole extending out below the window as if he expects to swing off it like a gymnast, but instead the pole comes loose in his hand and he starts to plummet straight down.

Clint gives an inarticulate yell, grabbing the first arrow in his quiver and letting fly. Luckily it's a glue arrow and it hits him square in the butt. Clint grabs the unspooling cable attached to the arrow, yanking hard enough to swing him against the side of the building. That can't feel good, but it's better than plunging to his death.

Matt grabs onto the cable and starts pulling himself up slowly.

Sensing some commotion behind him, Clint glances back to see Ai Ming with wet hair hanging around her face, freshly emerged from the shower, Xin Yi and Kate still in their pajamas. Ai Ming and Xin Yi are looking shocked and ashen faced, but Kate is nearly rolling on the ground laughing.

"Little help!" he grunts, using his voice because his hands are busy pulling on the cable. At least he's wearing gloves or his hands would have been cut to hell. Kate braces her legs against the window frame and leans out to help pull Matt back inside.

"What were you thinking!" Clint shouts at him, as Matt pulls his cowl off, unconcerned. Ai Ming and Xin Yi continue to gape at him. Wait, did he tell them about Matt being Daredevil? Clint can't remember. Maybe not.

Matt tries to yank the arrow free but the glue just pulls apart in sticky strands, so now it's all over his gloves too. Kate breaks off the tip so at least he's not trailing around the cable, but by now she's laughing so hard her eyes are streaming and her face is red.

"For the hundredth time, you ain't in New York! That ain't a flag pole, it's a laundry pole. It ain't bolted to the wall. It's supposed to come out, to hang the laundry," Clint rants at him. Matt just shrugs. Clint continues, "You're not exactly on your A game right now Daredevil, maybe take a break from diving out the fucking window."

Now Kate is telling Matt something, probably about how that glue is never coming out of his costume. Whatever, he should be grateful it saved his life.

"Hey!" Matt speaks and signs at the same time. "The triad guys are here, now. And they mean business."


	9. Chapter 9

The shouting in the hallway in Cantonese brings them all to the door, Ai Ming in front with her long wet hair leaving damp circles on her white t-shirt, followed by Xin Yi still in her lacy white Victorian nightgown and her hair in rollers. Clint and Kate stand behind them, arrows nocked. Kate is doing her best to look like a badass even though she is pretty sure she has terrible bedhead and all she's wearing is the oversized Stark Industries t-shirt she slept in. Matt hangs back, still trying to pull the glue from his costume.

The door is open as usual, with the metal gate shut. Three triad goons are in the hall, one in a shiny suit and the other two in tight jeans, animal print shirts and sunglasses.

"Hey goondu!" Ai Ming screeches at them as one of the dudes in jeans approaches the door. "This one got superhero here already ah! They kena hantam you one, then you know!"

The guy just smirks at her as he whips a chain and a lock around the gate, so it can't be opened.

"Wait, why is he doing that?" Kate lets her aim down in confusion but no one answers her.

In the next moment, everything happens at once.

Xin Yi lets out a string of profanity that makes Ai Ming's eyes go wide in admiration. "Kan ni na bu chao chee bye!"

At the same time, Matt shouts from behind them, "Get back, he's got a-"

The other ah long in jeans tosses a Molotov cocktail into the apartment through the gate. Clint and Kate loose their arrows, getting one guy in the hand and the other in the knee. Ai Ming and Xin Yi duck as Matt lunges forward and catches the bottle out of the air then tosses it back into the hall, where it explodes against the wall, sending the gangsters running for the lift.

"Tiu lei lo mo chao hai!" Ai Ming screams after them, as the maid comes running from the kitchen with her slippers flapping, holding a sloshing plastic basin full of water, which she tosses through the gate into the hall.

Clint pulls at the gate but can't get the chain off fast enough. By the time he's wrenched open the lock, the guys are gone. Everyone spills out into the hallway, making sure the fire is out, looking around for signs of the fleeing gangsters.

"What are you waiting for?" Clint prods Matt. "Go after them!"

Matt nods and retrieves his shoes from the pile beside the door, pulls on his mask, then grabs the chain and lock. There's still glue everywhere, but he puts his head down and trots dutifully off to the elevator.

It's not hard to find them. The three guys are huddled by a dumpster next to the void deck. One of them screams as the other pulls an arrow from his leg. Matt doesn't even bother to sneak up on them, but just runs up behind them and cracks their heads together. They sink to the pavement, groaning, while the one in the suit takes a wild swing at him.

Matt grabs the man's hand easily and bends it back, forcing him to his knees.

"Who sent you!" Matt demands in his scariest vigilante growl. "Who sold you the Tan girls' debt?"

The man just grunts, then says, "Your girl got dirty mouth."

In one quick, fluid move, Matt releases his hand and kicks him square in the chest, knocking him down. A heel to the windpipe with exactly the right amount of pressure finally convinces him to speak.

"WHO!"

"K-Kingpin."

"And the shipment to the warehouse in Jurong? What is it, and when is it coming in?"

"Uhhh... electronics...Thursday..."

Matt jerks his head up as he hears the distant sound of sirens approaching.

"Sounds like one of the neighbors called the police. You better hope your visa is still valid." He uses the chain to secure all three guys to the dumpster and takes off back upstairs.


	10. Chapter 10

Now in addition to the splashes of red paint and graffiti, the walls of the hallway outside the Tans' flat are decorated with black scorch marks. The acrid stench of burning plastic lingers even inside, drifting in through the still open front door.

Ai Ming hands the maid a generous bonus and gives her the rest of the day off. In the evening, she and her sister take their ang moh guests to her favorite hawker center in Whampoa to "makan" (eat). She loads up the big round formica table with the best dishes: yellow noodles fried in lard, smoked duck over rice with thick rich sauce, oysters fried with egg, fish head curry, fruit covered in sticky sauce, and many rounds of beer.

The big open air market is bustling with people, families eating dinner, office workers, old men sitting together over rounds of beer. The floor is tile, and overhead the fans blow hot air around. Little black mynah birds hop around, stealing scraps of food. Clint imagines it's noisy; even if his hearing aids were working, he would have a hard time following what his friends are saying in a place like this. He resigns himself to eating dinner without conversation, but to his surprise, Xin Yi sets up a group chat on her mobile phone.

The five of them sit happily around the table in silence, texting away as they eat, even Matt, who has some sort of high tech tactile display. He turns the phone away from himself and taps his fingers on the screen over six big dots. Clint's phone screen gets smeared with grease and sticky with chili and soy sauce but he hardly notices.

KatieKate: omg this food is so good I'm dyingggggg

XinYi: try the rojak

AiMing: so shiok

SexyMatt: Are you sure you don't want to move to a hotel? The three guys from this morning have been arrested but there might be more.

AiMing: I not leaving my home lah

KatieKate: u were attacked in a hotel room, doesn't seem much safer tbh

XinYi: cannot take video equipment to hotel, must upload tomorrow

Clint: ?

KatieKate: u don't know? she's got over a million subscribers on youtube

AiMing: come I clap for you

SexyMatt: I don't even want to know for what.

KatieKate: ASMR

Clint: ?

KatieKate: I forget what it stands for but it's that tingly feeling you get when you listen to tapping or brushing or crinkly sounds or whatever, it's super relaxing

Clint: ?

SexyMatt: so it's porn?

KatieKate: NO zomg

AiMing: she taptaptap with fingernail two hours plus so boring lor. who want to watch such thing ah?

KatieKate: she also does like whispering and roleplay, with that Lolita look she has it's so cute

SexyMatt: So it is porn.

KatieKate: No! it's sweet and relaxing. stop trying to make it sound dirty, you old pervert. anyway she's more famous than you are, Daredevil.

SexyMatt: I'm not old.

AiMing: what daredevil meh?

KatieKate: told u

XinYi: r u superhero like Clint?

SexyMatt: Yes.

SexyMatt: And before you ask, yes I really am blind. I just hear really well.

Clint polishes off the last of the noodles and finishes his beer, watching everyone's face as the conversation unspools on the screen of his phone. He doesn't even need to add anything himself, but it gives him a warm happy feeling just to know that they're making sure he's included. He can't remember how long it's been since he sat down with a big group like this and didn't feel like he was missing something.

Some busybody old aunties walk by and sniff judgmentally at the sight of them all sitting around staring at their phones rather than talking, but Ai Ming gives them an earful in Hokkien and they back off with apologetic smiles.

Later that night, Matt stretches out on the bed, rubbing his stomach and making a face. _I ate too much_.

_Me too_.

Clint snuggles up next to him, and adds, _I'm glad you're here_.

_Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss this for anything. Sorry I nagged you about the spare hearing aids. I just hate to see you struggling without them._

_No, you're right, I was stupid to forget_. He pauses, then pokes Matt in the ribs. _This is where you say 'thank you for saving my life this morning'._

_What are you talking about? You think it's the first time I've fallen off the side of a building? I would have figured something out. And now I'm still picking glue out of my ass crack_.

Rather than responding, Clint signs with exaggerated motions, _Thank you C-l-i-n-t-o-n for saving my life. You're welcome M-a-t-t-h-e-w, any time. I'm a superhero. That's what we do._

Matt cuffs him playfully on the side of the head, and soon they're rolling around in the bed. With everything that's happened, they haven't had sex since before they left New York. Matt kisses him hard and it feels so good to press up against him, like they fit together perfectly. As always, they like it rough, grappling and rolling around in the bed. This bed. Oh god, don't think about that. Clint forcibly puts thoughts of where he is out of his mind and tries to concentrate just on Matt. It's not really that difficult. This perfect, beautiful man who for some reason still wants to be with him. Once again he's ass up in the air, face down in the pillow, just letting Matt take him and enjoying it.

When he's done, Matt smacks him on the ass to make him turn around so he can see him sign, _Your turn_.

With a happy little hum deep in his throat, he switches places. How did he ever get so lucky?


	11. Chapter 11

On Monday morning Ai Ming takes Clint to the Deaf Association in Mountbatten. Clinging to the back of her motorcycle as she guns it down the Pan-Island Expressway, he reflects that it's a good thing he's not the type of guy to worry about his masculinity because they must look ridiculous, this skinny girl on an enormous bike that's almost too big for her to handle, and a much bigger guy on the back. It's also a good thing that he doesn't scare easily because the way she weaves in and out of traffic is objectively terrifying. He watches as taxis, buses filled with commuters, and pickups carrying day laborers in the back go sliding by, the sounds of traffic a dull indistinct roar he feels more than hears.

The Deaf Association is located in a high rise that's part of a massive, maze-like medical complex. Luckily for him Ai Ming is leading the way because he would never have found it on his own.

The audiologist is a middle aged Indian man with a kind smile. He doesn't really know ASL but apparently Madripoor uses the ASL fingerspelling alphabet so they get by somehow.

Clint pulls his purple hearing aids out of his pocket and hands them over for inspection.

[What happened to ... ?] the doctor asks, raising his eyebrows. Clint just shrugs.

Then it's the same old hearing tests, apparently that's pretty much the same everywhere. He can hear some of the sounds, mostly in the lower range. The world isn't totally silent, not like two years ago, but it's not enough to hear what people are saying. Actually Clint feels like he hears a little more than the last time he was tested, that's good, right? But the doctor looks over the test results with concern, then he's saying something again.

[We don't ... this... s(?) lah]

_What?_

Using a few signs and a lot of fingerspelling the doctor clarifies, _We don't usually treat people with hearing loss this severe here. I can give you a referral_...

If he had been by himself, Clint might have just left, but he can see Ai Ming hovering beside him, getting ready to argue with the doctor. In a flash, he decides he's not letting other people talk for him.

He takes a deep breath and pushes the air out, trying hard to make the words sound right. "I'm only here for a few more days but I've got some really important work I need to do before I go. There must be something you can do to fix these now."

The doctor gives him a sympathetic look, then holds up a finger. _Please wait_. He makes a phone call, then disappears into the back for a while. Clint and Ai Ming look at each other but don't say anything. She's still got that belligerent look like she's looking for a fight. It reminds him a little of Matt, not that Clint would ever tell him.

The doctor comes back in with a smile. [Ok lah, we fix for you here]

_Thank you!_

[But you...here...Wednesday]

"Leave them here then come pick up on Wednesday?"

_Yes._

Well, it's better than nothing.

Meanwhile, Matt and Kate head out to Hougang to check out the address turned up by the tracker. Xin Yi insists on coming along with them, with the excuse that without her they will get lost. Matt is ready to object to bringing civilians into the field when they have no idea what to expect at this address, but Kate takes Xin Yi's side, so the three of them end up on the train together.

With his costume ruined, Matt finally gives up on the idea of wearing it everywhere. Instead he's looking sharp in pressed chino shorts and a light blue short sleeve button down linen shirt. Kate has on her Hawkeye outfit, and Xin Yi goes for a toned-down daytime look in an Angelic Pretty chocolate dress with white piping.

As they sit next to each other on the train, Matt leans over and whispers to Xin Yi, "Those women directly across from us, what language are they speaking?"

"That's Malay," she answers. Then she fills him in on everyone else in the carriage-the tourists and expats, the locals and migrant laborers, what everyone is wearing and all the languages, Hokkien, Teochew, Mandarin, Korean, Japanese, Malay, Indonesian, Tamil. No wonder he felt overwhelmed on the first day, but now that he can sort out the details it's like an interesting puzzle to solve instead of sensory overload.

When they reach the public housing estate in Hougang, Kate convinces Xin Yi to wait for them at the kopitiam on the ground floor while she and Matt try to pinpoint exactly where the tracker is. The data from Clint's phone suggested Block 546, so they try that one first. The battery is slowly dying, but the tracker is still transmitting, so Matt figures if he can get in the general area he'll be able to hear it. They take the stairs rather than the elevator to cut down on ambient noise, pausing at the landing of each floor while Matt listens intently. Luckily they don't encounter any residents who might wonder what two ang mohs are doing loitering on the stairs. They make it all the way up to the thirtieth floor without finding anything.

"Ugh, this is more than my workout for the entire week," Kate complains, leaning against the wall of the elevator as they ride back down.

After some searching on the ground floor, Kate discovers another tower in the same block, so they head up the stairs again.

As they slowly climb the stairs, Kate sends Xin Yi a text updating her on their lack of progress.

"So, you and Xin Yi, huh?" Matt laughs as she clicks her phone off.

"What! What are you talking about! You don't know!" She's immediately flustered, all the blood rushing to her face.

Matt taps his ear. "Super hearing, remember? You've both been sleeping her room every night since we arrived. Well, not _sleeping_, exactly..."

Kate blows her bangs up out of her face. "Stop listening in, you old perv!"

"Believe me, if I could switch off my ears, I would." Matt cocks an eyebrow at her. "You gonna tell Clint?"

"No! I mean of course yes! I don't know! Jeez, gimme a fucking break, ok? Can I at least figure out what it even is first before I have to tell everyone?"

Matt stops for a moment at the landing to listen for the tracker then shakes his head and heads up the stairs again. "I'm not trying to pry into your private life. But Clint is ridiculously happy to see you again. Please don't do anything stupid to fuck it up."

She doesn't say anything. Just when she's finally starting to warm up to him, Matt has to act like a pompous dick again. It doesn't help that she knows he's right. It feels good to team up with Clint again and she doesn't want to fuck it up by sleeping with his friend on the sly. But Xin Yi is so freaking cute with her dip dyed pink hair and her Lolita outfits, her delicate plump little hands and those soft pink lips... she just can't help herself. She acts all cute but Kate can tell she's secretly kind of a badass, with the fearless way she yelled at those goons even while they were trying to firebomb her house.

Matt listens at another floor then keeps climbing. "Like I said, Clint's happy to see you. It really means a lot to him that you're using ASL."

"I know." She's quiet for a moment. "I've been meaning to ask you. So when you followed me out the window of the hotel, could you hear or see anything at all? Or you know, 'see'?" She makes air quotes with her fingers.

"Nope."

"Seriously? And you just followed me out there anyway? Did you even know who I was?"

"Not really, but I had a hunch it was you. What else was I going to do, stay there and be killed by some asshole gangster who's probably just hired muscle?"

"Wow, you really are fearless." Matt just shrugs. Kate wonders if she would have done the same. Just keep charging forward, no matter what. She thought being around Clint would make her lose her nerve, but maybe it's the opposite. Isn't that what Clint and Matt are both doing anyway, just charging ahead?

As Kate is thinking this over, Matt suddenly stops, his head swiveling around like crazy, then charges up the stairs two at a time.

"Wait, did you hear something? Hey! Wait for me!"

Two more flights up, Matt stops and presses himself up against the wall, edging the door open and gesturing for Kate to stop huffing and puffing so loudly. Then he swings the door open wide, saunters over to one of the units and begins casually picking the lock like it's nothing.

"Hey," Kate says coming up behind him. "Hey! What if they're in there!"

"Relax, no one's home," he says, popping the door open.

The apartment is a disaster-hardly any furniture, but dirty clothes and dirty dishes scattered everywhere, and a sour, locker room smell.

"Ugh, gross." Kate hesitates in the doorway, her hand over her nose. It must be so much worse for Matt, but he plunges right in, heading for one of the bedrooms. He lifts a shirt from the floor and fishes the tracker out of the pocket.

"What are we even looking for?" Kate asks, nudging a pile of clothes with her toe. "So far all I'm getting is that these goons are slobs, but it doesn't look like they spend a lot of time here."

Matt doesn't answer, but checks out each of the rooms, his head moving around with short, jerking motions, nostrils flaring.

"A gun in the drawer here," he says, pointing. "Probably illegal."

"So should we take it?"

"Nah, it'll be better to tip off the police, then maybe we can get more of them arrested and deported. Leave it."

They go back into the living room. "Do you see any letters or notes or anything?" Matt asks.

Kate scans the room. "There's a pile of mail on the table." She rifles through it, trying not to be too obvious, although honestly these guys probably wouldn't notice if a typhoon hit this room. "Utility bills, junk mail, real estate ads...oh wait, what's this?"

Matt waits patiently while Kate slips the thick embossed invitation out of the open envelope.

"It's an invitation to some sort of fancy exclusive party. The address is Orchard Road, must be nice. Hey, it's this Wednesday! Why would these idiots be invited to a high class event like this?"

"No idea. We gotta go now. Three big guys just stepped out of the elevator."

"Oh shit!" Kate snaps a photo of the invite, then races Matt to the window. "I can't believe I have to do this again," she mutters, but he's right, there's no other way out. Luckily there is a balcony on the storey beneath them. They slip silently over the ledge before the front door opens, landing at the back of the apartment below as fat drops of rain begin to fall. Matt confirms that this unit is also empty. They walk out the front door and take the elevator down as if nothing had happened.

Kate heaves a sigh of relief in the elevator. "Thank goodness. I really wasn't looking forward to rappelling down twenty stories in the rain."

Matt grins. "Spoilsport. I was totally going to go for it."

"Oh shut up! You were not!"


	12. Chapter 12

On Tuesday they are just waiting. Waiting for Clint's hearing aids to be fixed, waiting for this mysterious party they intend to crash, waiting for the shipment to come in. Kate heads off to Orchard Road with Xin Yi, claiming that she will try to do some recon before this party, but probably also to do some shopping. Or a lot of shopping. Ai Ming has to go to work, make the rounds of the stalls, check with her suppliers. Matt and Clint decide to try to find out more about Lion City Enterprises. An internet search shows a second location in Bugis, so they take the train across town to see what they can turn up.

Following the crowds out of the subway station, they cross the main road and into a busy covered walkway crammed with tourists and lined with shops selling cheap souvenirs, clothes, junky snack foods and fresh fruit. The odor of durian wafts through the air, like rotting oranges doused in gasoline, mingling with the smells of dozens of sweaty bodies. Matt turns his head back and down, trying in vain to get a breath of fresh air. Suddenly the crowd around him surges and erupts in shouts.

"Clint!" Matt is so caught off guard he forgets Clint can't hear him no matter how loud he shouts.

Matt pushes forward through the crowd. Clint is fighting someone, a big guy, trading vicious, no holds barred punches. Over the din of the crowd, Matt can hear their grunts as they paste each other in the face, but neither of them speak.

"Hey, hey!" Matt pushes in front of Clint, trying to get into what must be his line of vision, trying to push him away from the other guy. There's a chance he's fighting more of the triad goons, but Matt is betting that's not the case, especially since Clint threw the first punch out of nowhere. "What are you doing?" With his arms wrapped around Clint trying to drag him away, Matt can't sign anything, but he hopes Clint is looking at his face. Maybe not, since his arms flail forward, still trying to get another hit in. What the hell is going on? Behind him, he can sense the other guy panting, bleeding a bit but not lunging forward. There are other figures clinging to the big guy-are those little kids? What the hell?

Matt puts his hands right in front of Clint's face, signing forcefully. _Stop it! You're going to get arrested! _

A loud voice rings out behind him in a clear American accent, "Hey Clint! Ain'tcha gonna introduce me to your boyfriend?"

Clint must have been able to read his lips because he stops trying to hit the other guy but at the same time his heart rate spikes even more wildly than before. Matt slowly releases him and turns around, as Clint says in his loud flat voice, "This is Matt Murdock. Matt, this is my brother Barney."

Five minutes later, they are all seated at Starbucks-Matt, Clint, Barney, who is with Simone and her two kids. Clint feels like he's having a nearly out of body experience at how weird it is to be sitting in a Starbucks in Madripoor with his neighbor from Bed Stuy who is apparently now married to his brother. Although the minute they all sit down the two little boys (uh, Charlie, and um, ?) start acting up and Simone takes them back outside to run around the pedestrian mall.

"Nice to see you again, Simone, and uh, little Simones," Clint waves to her as they leave. She's not even paying attention to him as she tries to keep the younger boy from running off.

Clint turns back to the table and stares at his brother across the table. On his left, Matt is sitting stiffly, looking awkward.

"So..." Clint really doesn't know what to say. "Uh...I see you got your legs fixed?"

Barney waves a hand. "Yeah. Took a while to recover but lucky the bullets didn't hit my spine. You get your ears fixed?"

Clint switches to ASL. _No. I have hearing aids but they broke and I forgot to pack spares._

Barney guffaws. _Clint you dummy_.

Clint rubs the back of his neck and looks away.

Matt has had enough of this already. "Excuse me, but can I ask what you are doing in Madripoor?"

"We live here!" Barney grins expansively, speaking and signing at the same time.

_What the fuck, man!_ Clint frowns. _Last time I talked to you, you were on a boat_.

"Yeah, well, Simone was like 'I ain't raising my babies on no boat' and 'We gotta send these kids to school.'" He rolls his eyes. "I wanted to use the money to buy us a nice private island in the South Pacific."

"My money," Clint growls at him.

"No, MY money that you stole from me," Barney pokes the table with an insistent finger.

"That you stole from Baron Zemo," Clint shoots back.

"Baron Zemo," Matt sniggers.

"He ran a crime circus," Clint clarifies, and Matt bursts out laughing. "Shut up, you have villains like Stilt-man and a guy in a frog costume and the Gladiator."

"Hey, Melvin's a good guy," Matt mutters.

"So anyway," Barney continues, still signing, "We got ourselves a nice condo in Novena, the kids go to fancy private schools, and I got treated by the best doctors. What's not to love! So what the hell are you doing here?"

"Uh, Avenging?"

"No shit."

They glare across the table at each other for a long minute, until Matt stands up and announces he's going outside to see if Simone needs help with the kids. _Don't do anything stupid_, he signs to Clint before snapping open his cane and striding out the door.

Once Matt leaves, they both switch into ASL exclusively, voice off, just like when they were kids. Clint fills him in the details on the triad, the money laundering and loan sharking, the Tans and his plan to protect them. Well, "plan" is maybe a bit too specific, really he's just trying to be in the right place at the right time.

_Always the superhero_, Barney smirks at him.

_What about you? No more Trickshot?_

_No way! Why would I get mixed up in that bullshit again? I got it made now! Beautiful wife, cute kids, I'm telling you, life is great._

Clint watches Barney go on in more detail about his life, his hands flashing out signs and his rubbery, prizefighter face glowing with pride and contentment. Watching him makes Clint feel a tiny glow also, and that old anger and resentment starts to fade away. He can hardly believe that his brother would settle down like this, in Madripoor of all places. After the way they were raised, Clint just assumed that neither of them could live like grown-ass adults-they'd just be fuck-ups forever. But now that it's happening for Barney, Clint can hardly resent him for it, even if it is thanks to his money. Whatever, it's just money. If anyone deserves to be happy, it's Barney.

_So wait, why is Daredevil here with you? Is he an Avenger now too?_

_No. How do you know-?_

_Come on, I still follow the superhero news. Not an Avenger, what is he, your boyfriend?_

Clint looks at the table and gives the tiniest nod.

_What? I was kidding! Seriously?_

_Yes._

_Wow, I can't believe it! My little brother is really a-_

Clint leans forward threateningly, his jaw thrust out. _I promised him I wouldn't beat your ass in public but if you call me a faggot I swear to god I'll fucking kill you right here._

_Woah, woah, relax! _Barney leans back, putting his hands up in a gesture of surrender. _I got no problem with you being with a guy. I just thought...you were always with women... you were married for a while, right?_

_Yeah, so? I guess I'm b-i._

_It's cool, it's cool! So was he your first-?_

Clint leans back in his chair. _No, not the first_.

Just at that moment, the kids come bounding back in, with Simone and Matt trailing behind. The kids run up to Barney and wrap their arms around him.

"Hey Uncle Barney! I scared a pigeon!" Charlie shouts.

"Also me!" Jeremiah echoes.

"Hey boys, remember what we practiced?" Barney prompts them.

Jeremiah hides his face shyly, but Charlie holds up his hands and shakily signs, _Hi Uncle Clint_, using his name sign, the one from his childhood that he hasn't seen in forever.

Eyes wide with surprise, Clint looks up at Barney grinning back at him. _You taught them ASL?_

_Of course! Did you really think we'd never see you again?_

This is actually making Clint choke up just a little, but already Charlie is trying to sign something else. _Where dog?_ He looks up at Barney, asking, "Where's Lucky?"

Clint shows him how to make the signs correctly, then says, "Aimee is taking care of Lucky while I'm away, but I'll tell him you said hello."


	13. Chapter 13

"You sure you don't want to come to the party?" Matt asks as he pops in his cufflinks.

Clint looks up at him from where he's sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Nah, I ain't got nothing to wear. It's better this way." A tuxedo, he thinks. Matt brought a freaking tuxedo in his suitcase. Aside from his Hawkeye gear, the only clothes Clint brought were shorts and t-shirts, a few of them with holes, he was dismayed to discover after he arrived. The only shoes he has with him are combat boots and purple high tops. Yet here is Matt looking impeccable in a tux. Clint doesn't even own a tux, certainly not an expensive-looking one like Matt has. How does he do it?

Well part of the reason he looks so nice is because Xin Yi spent the afternoon expertly steaming and pressing Matt's outfit for him, while Ai Ming took Clint back to Mountbatten to pick up his repaired hearing aids. Maybe it's his imagination after not having them for a few days but he feels like they now work a little better than before. The left one that always gave him feedback is quiet, at least for now. He thanked the doctor profusely, making a mental note to have Tony give the Deaf Association something when he gets back. What would you call it? An endowment? A grant? Whatever, something like that.

Clint had wanted to introduce Barney and his family to the Tans, but Simone was understandably reluctant to bring the kids over while they are still dealing with the triad. For whatever reason, the ah longs have not been back since the, uh, incident a few days ago, but still. He gets it, all that bullshit with the tracksuit mafia a few years back made her skittish. They came here to get away from all that. Clint promises her that this will all be over in a few days, ignoring Barney's skeptical look.

Now here is Matt standing in front of him looking perfect, brushing back his bright red hair and feeling carefully along his square jaw line for any trace of stubble. His sunburn has faded into a light golden tan. That red hair and those blue eyes, even if they are scarred over. Clint has gotten used to Matt not looking back at him. Matt is always so much more attuned to him than any sighted person could ever be. God, Clint just wants to rip that tux off him.

Aaaaaand now Matt seems to know it. He stops getting ready and turns his face in Clint's direction, with a comically exaggerated smirk as he slides on his red sunglasses.

"Not right now, sweetheart. It'll have to wait until after."

"Shit!" Clint rolls over onto the bed, burying his burning face in the pillows. "Gimme a minute," he adds, his voice muffled.

"Are you sure this is the right address?" Matt asks.

"Yes, and stop asking." Kate presses the doorbell, which plays a tinny electronic version of "Für Elise" inside the Orchard Road penthouse. She straightens her jacket, part of the chic cream-colored pantsuit ensemble she picked up the day before. It wasn't exactly a bargain but hey, quality costs money. She wriggles again, trying not to look like she has daggers hidden around her waist. She feels naked without her bow, but they're trying not to stand out.

"Stop fidgeting," Matt hisses at her. "And I'm only asking because there don't seem to be that many people in-"

He stops speaking a second before the door swings open, revealing a well-dressed white man wearing painfully trendy, architectural spectacles.

In the taxi on the way over, Kate had worked up elaborate fake identities for them, including that they are scouting new acquisitions in Madripoor for Stark Industries and are considering purchasing this building.

Matt puts on his most charming smile and sticks out his hand. "Hello, I'm-"

But before he can even say his fake name and cover story, the man in spectacles cuts him off and says in a British accent, "Ah, you must be the pianist. This way please."

He turns briskly, gesturing for them to follow him into the penthouse. Matt and Kate are frozen to the spot, their mouths hanging open, Matt's hand still awaiting a handshake. Kate glances up at Matt uncertainly.

"This way please," the man repeats through gritted teeth, in an irritated tone.

Matt shrugs gives Kate's arm a little push, prompting her to lead him inside. He walks with one hand on her elbow, the other swinging his white cane in wide arcs, in what she feels is overdoing the blind man role but no one even glances at them. They are led into a large flat ringed with picture windows and crammed with a mishmash of European and Chinese antiques, then directed to a baby grand piano in one corner.

"Your fee," the man says, thrusting a narrow brown envelope at Kate, then stalking off without another word.

"That asshole!" Matt fumes as he folds up his cane and takes a seat on the piano bench. "Assuming the blind man must be the piano player and not a guest."

"But we're not guests. At least this got us in the door," Kate points out. Matt snorts in derision. "Um, can you even play?" Kate asks uncertainly.

Matt opens the keyboard cover and flexes his hands a few times. "Of course I can play, but that's beside the point."

As he runs through "Für Elise" at an angry clip, Kate sits down next to him on the bench and surveys the room. At the opposite end is a small group of well-dressed people, including an older man in an elaborate Victorian style dressing gown and soft cap with a long tassel over wispy white hair. He must be the host; no one would show up at someone else's party dressed like that.

The apartment certainly is fancy, although the view is rather impeded by a taller hotel next door. She would never advise Stark Industries to buy this building, Kate thinks judgmentally.

Matt switches to jazz improvisation as a few more guests filter in, seemingly of various nationalities, but they all have a kind of guarded, hard-edged look Kate recognizes too well. This feels like the kind of gathering of high class criminals her dad used to host at parties when she was little. Well, he probably still does. Wait, what if he walks through the door next? Anything's possible, and she hasn't exactly been close with him lately. This is totally the kind of place he would turn up. She shifts around on the bench nervously, trying to get better sightlines on the front door and the big picture windows.

"Stop fidgeting," Matt hisses at her.

There's a lull in the conversation across the room and a flurry of movement.

"The man in the glasses is gesturing at you to stop playing," Kate explains.

"What glasses?" Matt lifts his hands from the keys.

"Ugh, I mean the guy who let us in!"

Now the old guy in the bathrobe is holding his hands up for attention. "Welcome friends to our little salon," he says. Kate's hardly an expert on British accents but this guy sounds like the freaking Queen. "Please enjoy the music and the canapés. And don't forget the wine, it arrived early!"

Kate turns to Matt and whispers, "What the hell is going on here?"

As the conversation resumes, he starts playing again. "Aren't you an Avenger? Don't you ever read their files? That's Augustine Howard-Granville. He was indicted in the UK for his connections to organized crime but fled the country. I guess this is where he ended up, and I'm willing to bet he's the Kingpin's fixer in Madripoor."

"Ok, so what do we do?"

"Hey, hey!" Before Matt can answer, a young man with spiky black hair and an ill-fitting suit comes striding in the front door and makes a beeline straight over to them. "What are you doing?! This my gig lah! I was promised two hours performance and payment in advance!"

Matt smiles at him but does not stop playing. "I'm sorry, there seems to have been some sort of misunderstanding, but I'm happy to split the money with you."

Kate gestures toward the envelope of cash in her jacket pocket, trying to calm him down, but the man is not having it. "Bloody typical! My only paying gig all week and it gets taken by a damned ang moh!"

Kate tries to shush him, but already they've attracted attention from the other side of the room. The man in the spectacles rushes over.

"What's all this?" he demands.

Directly behind him is a Chinese man in a flashy suit. "Hey, what he doing here? That the gweilo who follow us!"

"Get down!" Matt shouts, pulling Kate with him off the bench and under the piano as the triad gangster pulls out a gun.

"I knew we should have grabbed that gun in Hougang," Kate complains, trying to work one of her daggers free, but it's not easy scrunched up under the piano with Matt on top of her. Next to her the real pianist stares at them with wide eyes.

"What the hell?"

"Just stay down," they both say at the same time.

"Not in my home, you fool!" Augustine Howard-Granville shouts at the gangster flourishing the pistol threateningly.

"On three," Matt whispers to Kate.

"Wait, what? On three what?"

But it's too late. Matt shouts "Three!" and leaps out from under the piano, launching himself straight at the guy holding the gun, grabbing his wrist and forcing it back. The guy reflexively fires, and the bullet shatters an expensive-looking vase filled with flowers. Augustine roars in anger, while the guests scream and duck.

Kate scrambles awkwardly out from under the piano, but just as she's wondering if they can both make it out the front door, one of the large windows shatters, followed by the clank of a grappling hook sinking into the ledge.

"Hey, that's our ride," she calls to Matt as he disarms the gangster, pulling his gun apart and tossing it across the room. She throws a few of her daggers to give them cover as they make for the broken window.

"You'll pay for this!" Augustine yells from behind his dogsbody or consigliore or whoever he is, the one with the weird spectacles.

"Send a bill to the Kingpin," Matt replies as he launches himself out the window, using his folded cane to zipline across.

Kate tosses a final dagger at spectacles man for good measure, sinking it in his foot. While he's distracted with that, she pulls off her jacket and sighs heavily. She really liked that jacket. At the last minute she remembers the envelope of cash, and sends it spinning across the room to the man still hiding under the piano. Then she loops her jacket over the wire and leaps off the window ledge.

Matt is already climbing onto the balcony and Kate is nearly there when the wire starts to shake wildly. She glances back and sees one of the gangsters trying to dislodge the grappling hook, while another tries to cut through the wire, but her weight is keeping the line taut. Just as she's inches from the balcony, the wire comes free and she begins to plummet, but a hand reaches out and grabs her.

Clint pulls her up over the railing as the wire behind her clanks against the side of the building. _Thanks Hawkeye_, she signs at him, and he winks at her. Then he leans over the balcony to retrieve his grappling hook.

"Thanks guys!" he shouts across the way, waving. Kate hears some curses shouted back at them, and they duck into the darkened hotel room just in case anyone else might have brought a gun to the salon. But no one comes after them as they leave the hotel out a side exit.

"Sorry about your jacket," Clint tells her in the taxi on the way back to Toa Payoh.

"No, it's my fault, I should have planned better."

"Well, thanks for booking the hotel room. The sightlines were perfect," he says. "So did you get any useful intel?"

Kate shakes her head, but Matt says, "The host of the salon is our man. Link him to anything illegal in the shipment tomorrow and the whole thing goes down."

"Ok, so how do we do that?"

Matt shrugs. "Let's see what comes in tomorrow."

When they get back to flat, Ai Ming is asleep already but Xin Yi is still up. She fusses over them and commiserates with Kate over the ruined jacket, but that's not the reason she's waiting for them. After Kate and Matt go to get ready for bed, Xin Yi pulls Clint aside.

"Jun Jie arriving tomorrow," she tells him, with a hand on his arm.

He stares at her. "What? But I thought he lives in London now?"

"Correct, but Ai Ming tell him about the ah long like that, and he so worried lah, he take the first plane back already. I only tell you now so you not surprised to see him, ok?"

Clint feels like his brain isn't working. Jun Jie coming here. Clint is sleeping in his bed. For a minute he considers going back to that hotel room on Orchard Road that Kate already paid for. Well, technically the Avengers paid for it but maybe he can just stay there until everything blows over.

Xin Yi is looking at him with concern. "Don't worry, he'll be happy to see you," she says, and gives him a hug.

Clint wanders off to bed, feeling shell-shocked. Matt is stretched out on the bed, waiting for him.

Come on, Barton, he tells himself, you just need to keep it together for a few more days.

An hour later, Matt wakes him up suddenly.

"What?" Clint mumbles, half asleep, reluctantly turning the light on so he can see what Matt is signing to him.

_At the party, he said the wine came early. Do you think it came in the shipment? The whole thing came early?_

Clint's eyes go wide. He checks the clock-after midnight. "It's Thursday now. Shit! It must be here already! I gotta go." He leaps out of bed, not hearing Matt's protests.


	14. Chapter 14

Clint speeds down the Ayer Rajah Expressway on Ai Ming's motorcycle, the bow and arrows slung on his back vibrating in the wind. His hearing aids are in his pocket, because the motorcycle helmet causes too much feedback. It feels kind of silly not to wear them after he just got them fixed, but whatever, he won't need them until he gets to the warehouse in Jurong anyway. Probably.

Just as he passes over the Pandan River, rain starts to fall, a light sprinkling at first, and the sky lights up with distant flashes of lightning. By the time he turns off the expressway onto Boon Lay Way, the rain is bucketing down, blown sideways by the wind, cascading off the high rise office blocks, shopping malls and covered walkways in sheets.

He parks the motorcycle in the loading bay of the warehouse across the street, out of view of the main entrance. He can already see triad goons running around in the rain, yelling and waving as trucks are pulling in.

Clint, you dummy. You should have been staking this place out all week.

There are guards all the way around the warehouse. There's no way he could get in without being seen. Instead he climbs up to the top of one of the parked trucks across the street, trying to ignore the water squelching in his boots. The rain makes it hard to see but they don't call him Hawkeye for nothing. Every few minutes there's a flash of lightning that illuminates everything like a strobe light, freezing the scene in a flattening white flash.

Just inside the open warehouse doors, Clint can see the stacked shipping containers, some open at one end. Men are running around with carts unloading boxes and putting them into the delivery trucks. Some of the boxes are marked with the names of well-known consumer electronics brands, which matches their intel, but another truck is being loaded with unmarked boxes that look sketchy as hell. And there, on the side of the truck is the logo for Lion City Enterprises. This must be how the money is being laundered. Madripoor is the biggest open port in the world. No customs check, and a small operation like this flies under the radar of the police. Mix in illegal stuff with the legit products, then ship it out again and it looks legal. Now if he can only tie it to the Kingpin directly, not just these triad lackeys.

There-a car pulls up and Clint sees the old dude from the party dash inside the open warehouse doors, trying unsuccessfully not to get too wet. What did Matt say his name is? Whatever, he's wearing a suit now, yelling at the guys unloading the boxes and waving his arms around.

Now what? Clint suddenly regrets not taking Matt and Kate with him. It would have been nice to have some help right about now. But he's gotta do something. The old dude's car is idling and the driver hasn't gotten out, so chances are he doesn't intend to stay long. Also the lightning strikes are getting closer, the jagged arcs clearly outlined against the black sky. Just after each flash Clint feels the truck he's perched on vibrate. Maybe out in the open on top of a big hunk of metal isn't the best place to be right now.

He's got to move fast. Take out the guards with some arrows, jump down, grab the old guy, take the car, drive to the police. It's not the worst plan he's ever come up with.

Shooting four of the guards in the shoulder is easy. But as he splashes down from the truck, there's a tremendous clap of thunder loud enough that even he can hear it, the flash at the same time, and he sees a bolt of lightning strike a building nearby. It doesn't do any harm but the shocking noise makes one of the goons drop his box and look up, and now he's looking right at Clint as he's running at them.

So much for the element of surprise. Clint gets one arrow off aimed at the car before the goons are on top of him. As he socks one of them in the face, he sees out of the corner of his eye the old dude jump in the car and take off, and two other dudes scrambling to close up the truck with the (probably) illegal boxes. Fuck! He's really blown it. By the time he gets these assholes off him the evidence will be long gone.

Just then, two of the goons trying to deck him go down, an arrow in each of their shoulders. Clint looks up to see a car tearing up the road, with Kate in her Hawkeye gear hanging out of the passenger side window. But who is driving? Certainly not Matt. Holy shit, it's Barney.

They pull up and Matt leaps out of the back seat, looking spiffy in a red t-shirt. With his billy clubs he makes short work of the guys attacking Clint, then he's saying something. Oh right, Clint forgot to put his hearing aids back in. Just as well, the rain would have shorted them out. He drags Matt back to the car, where Kate is covering them with her arrows.

"They split up!" Clint shouts, hoping they can hear him over the rain. "Kate, you've got to get that truck. Barney, come with me!"

Kate hands Matt her bow and takes the wheel, tires squealing as she turns the car in a tight circle. Barney lumbers heavily after Clint, back to the motorcycle.

Clint tosses the helmet to Barney, then pulls out his phone to check the tracker arrow he shot on back of the old guy's car. Looks like the car is just turning onto the Ayer Rajah Expressway. Ai Ming has a smartphone holder on the handlebar of her bike, because of course she does. Clint slots his phone into the holder and points to it.

_Follow that car_.

Barney gives him a little salute, then climbs on, and Clint gets on behind him. They take off with a not very reassuring wobble, but after a minute Barney gets the hang of it. They used to do motorcycle stunts as kids in the circus sometimes. Clint hopes like hell Barney still remembers how, because there's no way for them to talk to each other now.

As they speed down to the on ramp, the rain finally starts to let up, but everything is still wet, sheets of water sluicing across the road. Barney guns it, splitting the center lane a terrifying speed. Luckily there's hardly any traffic this late. The rain trees along the side of the road look ghostly in the street lights. Clint hangs on as they go faster and faster. They'll be downtown soon-the island just isn't that big. Things will be a lot harder if they end up on a busier road.

Just as they reach Queenstown, Barney suddenly slows down to a more normal highway speed. Clint looks up. There's the car ahead of them, going the speed limit, so chances are they haven't spotted him yet. He's got to act now, before they see him. He pats Barney on the shoulder, hoping he understands.

Clint takes a deep breath and unslings his bow, then slowly stands up on the back of the motorcycle. Just like in the circus, he tells himself. The trick is to keep his knees flexed and center of gravity low. He pulls back on the bow. Deep breath. Elbow up, shoulders square.

With one shot, he lets fly with two arrows, sinking one in each of the car's back tires. The car goes skidding onto the shoulder, and Clint sits down again quickly as they go speeding ahead. Barney swings the bike around and circles back to the stopped car, braking abruptly right in front of it. Clint jumps off the back and tackles Augustine Howard-Granville as he tries to run from the car, throwing him back into the back seat and leaning against the door. The driver puts his hands up and slides down in his seat.

_Call 911_, Clint signs to Barney.

Barney pulls off the helmet, grinning at him. _It's 999 here, dummy_. He takes Clint's phone out of the holder and makes the call. Then he tosses the phone back to Clint. _You got a text._

It's from Kate, a selfie of her and Matt standing in front of the truck, which is upside down by the side of the road, the back open and boxes spilling out. Kate has her tongue out and is flashing the ILY sign. Matt is facing the wrong direction and looks like he didn't know she was taking a picture. But Clint is more interested in the background. He zooms in on the image, trying to make out the blurry shapes spilling out of the boxes on the wet road.

Clint: Are those guns?

KatieKate: Yup.

Clint: Have you called the cops yet? You know it's 999 here not 911.

KatieKate: Already on it, Hawkeye. U get the other one?

He sends her a photo of himself with his arm around Barney's neck, the two of them grinning like idiots, with the mob boss's angry face in the background, shouting something unheard at them from the back seat of the car.


	15. Chapter 15

Sometime in the early hours of the morning, Matt rolls over in bed and realizes that Clint is not beside him, in fact he has never come to bed at all.

After the police came to take care of the triad and the Kingpin's operatives, Barney dropped Clint, Matt and Kate off in Toa Payoh before returning home to Novena. They crept in to the dark, silent flat, and Matt fell into bed but Clint insisted he had to send a report to the Avengers and SHIELD right away. The local police were not too happy to find foreign agents working on their turf, but they were distracted enough in the moment seizing the illegal guns not to question them too closely. Clint is trying to avoid a major diplomatic incident by getting his reports in as quickly as possible.

The great advantage of being a vigilante is a lot less paperwork, Matt reflects as he drifts off to sleep.

But now here it is a few hours later, and Clint is still hunched in front of his laptop. He isn't typing anything, but his heart is pounding. He hasn't even changed out of his clothes, which smell of sweat and rainwater. The mission is over, so why is he still so worked up?

Matt rolls out of bed and comes up behind Clint carefully, trying not to startle him, but it's no good, the second he touches his shoulder, Clint jumps. Now his heart is really hammering.

_What's wrong?_ Matt sits at the edge of the bed, his knees brushing up against Clint's in the desk chair, and puts his hands on top of his, waiting for Clint to start signing to him.

There's a brief hesitation, then Clint replies, _Nothing._

_Come on! _Matt suppresses the urge to throttle him_. Is it SHIELD? Are we all going to a Madripoor prison?_

_No, no that's fine. I got a c-o-m-m-e-n-d-a-t-i-o-n._

_Nice! So what? Is it your brother? Did he say something to you? I don't like the way he calls you dummy._

_You don't have a brother, do you? No, it's fine, Barney is fine. Actually I'm really happy to see him._

_So what is it? Don't lie to me._

Clint heaves a huge sigh and runs a hand through his hair, ending by rubbing the back of his neck for a long time, but finally brings his hands back to Matt's. _J-u-n J-i-e is arriving today._

_Who?_

_The middle brother, younger than A-i M-i-n-g, older than X-i-n Y-i. He lives in London but he was worried about the girls so he's come back to help them._

_So?_

_So he was my first, o-k? When I was here ten years ago. The first guy I ever...you know._

_The first guy you ever fucked, or the first guy you fell in love with?_

_Yes and yes._

And then Clint tells him the whole story. How he was barely more than a kid when he came here, no idea what he was doing, terrified he was going to screw up his first legit job, going through culture shock, feeling so alone. He used to go to the same hawker center for dinner every night, and Ai Ming's father sort of adopted him. Call me Uncle Tan, he said. She and her father helped him get over his culture shock and learn the local slang. In return, he told them about the circus, some of the things he had done before joining SHIELD. They thought he was making it up.

Then Ai Ming asked Clint to help her younger brother Jun Jie, who was in the middle of his two years of military service. He was being bullied and harassed for being "ah gua," and Ai Ming thought that maybe if Clint helped him learn to shoot better at least he wouldn't keep failing every test.

They met when Jun Jie came home for a weekend leave. He was a quiet, shy boy with pale skin and soft hands, even after going through basic training. Ai Ming and Xin Yi are pretty, although they hide it under gobs of makeup. Jun Jie has the same even, smooth features, but the blackest eyes and he had this kind of glow. Back then Clint didn't think he was interested in guys, but Jun Jie had this beauty he couldn't look away from.

Well, it was easy to see why Jun Jie wasn't fitting in, because he was so girly, also really book-smart but physically kind of weak and uncoordinated. Clint showed him some exercises to get stronger, faster, and showed him how to handle his gun properly, things his sergeant never taught him. Whenever he could get away, Jun Jie would meet up with Clint for extra training. They snuck into a SHIELD facility at night to use the range, and Clint taught him how to sharpshoot, then how to use a bow and arrow. Once Jun Jie understood that hitting the target was like a math problem, it all seemed to fall into place, and he got pretty good at it. The other guys in his platoon still called him chao ah gua, but at least the sergeant stopped harassing him.

The first time they kissed was in the gun range at night. Clint had never met anyone like Jun Jie, so thoughtful and quiet. It was like he knew everything, and if he didn't know something, he'd go look it up and think about it more. Clint found himself looking up the books Jun Jie liked and reading them just to impress him. And Jun Jie didn't seem to care that Clint hadn't been to school, or that he had been a criminal.

"Being a good person isn't something you're born with," he said. "It's a choice you make every day. You're making that choice now. Just continue to decide, 'I want to do the right thing.'"

The first time they had sex was right here, in this room. If anyone else in the family knew what was going on, no one said anything, but continued to treat Clint like a member of the family. Then every time Jun Jie came home on leave, Clint stayed over too. If anyone had told Clint that he would fall in love with a guy, he'd have punched him in the face. But here he was, and he'd never been happier.

One night, he even snuck onto the military base in the middle of the night and they did it in a field under the moonlight.

_Wait, what?_ Matt interrupts the stream of reminiscence to make sure he's got that right. _Did you seriously break into a military base?_

_Yes, master thief and trained spy, remember? You think you're the only one with skills?_

_No, no, I didn't mean that. But what if you had got caught?_

Clint gives a low, harsh laugh. _I never thought that far ahead._

_You were lucky._

_Yes, dumb and lucky. So you're not jealous? _

_No, why should I be jealous? It's in the past._

_Yes, but we were right here in this bed..._

_The bed thing is a little weird, but whatever. So what happened with him? _

_There's no way it could last. After his military service ended, he had a place waiting for him at a university in the UK, and SHIELD rotated me back to the US. What else could we do? We split up and followed our own careers. _

_Then why are you so upset about seeing him again?_

_I don't know. I never kept in touch with him. He emailed me a few times but I never wrote back. The more time passed the harder it was to say anything. I feel like I let him down. I kept in touch with A-i M-i-n-g, so why not him? Why do I fuck up everything in my life? He probably doesn't even want to see me again._

_Why not ask him yourself?_

_What, is he here already? Shit!_

_There's a man in A-i M-i-n-g's room with her. I assume that's him, unless she has a secret boyfriend._

Clint points uncertainly in the direction of Ai Ming's bedroom, his hands slow with confusion. _There? Really? So where is X-i-n Y-i?_

_With Kate in her room._

_What-?_

_Never mind. Hey, why don't you go take a shower? If you go now, you won't have to wait in line. You'll feel better once you get clean and change your clothes._

Since no one else is up yet, Clint takes his time, standing under the hot water trying to loosen up his stiff shoulders. After the shower, he even shaves carefully. He stares at himself in the mirror after rinsing his face off. As usual, he thinks he looks like shit. Staying up all night doesn't help. His eyes look baggy and tired. The shiner Barney gave him the other day is fading to an impressive green and purple, accompanied by a few other bruises and scratches.

With a sigh, he pulls on his favorite t-shirt, the white one with the purple target, then with a twist on each side shoves his hearing aids into his ears, wincing slightly as the sound of the world comes alive with in a rush. The bright purple plastic is super noticeable, but isn't that the point? Stop being so vain, you fancy boy, he tells himself.

He opens the bathroom door, wandering absent-mindedly down the hall back to the bedroom, rubbing his wet hair with the towel, when suddenly there is Jun Jie, standing right in front of him. He looks older, but in a good way, like a grownup instead of a gangly kid. No more military buzzcut and poorly fitting fatigues. His glossy black hair is short on the sides but long on top, looking stylish even though he just woke up from a short sleep after a long flight. He's still just as pale but his face has filled out, his even regular features sharper than ever.

"Uh, h-hi..." Clint stammers.

To his surprise, Jun Jie's face lights up in a grin, like he's really genuinely happy to run into him like this. "Clint! It's so good to see you," he says in a British accent. "Thank you so much for everything you've done for my sisters."

"Uh... it...it was nothing..." Coffee, he thinks. His brain isn't processing anything. He needs coffee.

Clint sits at the dining table in a stupor, sipping on the sweet, buttery coffee prepared by the maid. He sits for a long time, not moving. One by one, the others get up and join him at the table, chattering happily, but he just sits back and watches them, too tired and overwhelmed to join in. Over breakfast of toast and eggs, Xin Yi introduces her brother to Kate and Matt with obvious pride, while Ai Ming rolls her eyes and teases both of them. Kate and Matt relate everything that happened at the warehouse, and how they took down the triad and Lion City Enterprises. Apparently Barney told her about how Clint shot out the car tires while standing on the back of a moving motorcycle, because now Kate relates a somewhat embellished version, and they all stare at him admiringly.

"We were in the circus, remember?" he says gruffly. "That used to be part of our act." But he smiles anyway, in spite of himself.

Then the conversation moves on to more mundane topics, and Matt asks Jun Jie what he does for a living.

"I'm a barrister," he says. "That's why I came home, to try to sort out this problem with the loan sharks."

To Clint's consternation, Matt bursts out laughing and claps him on the shoulder. _Wow, you certainly have a type_, Matt signs at him, as he blushes furiously.

"Wait, I thought we took care of the loan sharks?" Kate asks.

"Yeah, are there still others holding the debts?" Matt adds.

Jun Jie shrugs. "I have to look into it. If there are any others, I'm going to see what I can do to put a stop to it."

After breakfast, Jun Jie pulls Clint aside and sits with him on the sofa in the living room. Clint would have been just as happy not to talk to him here since there is no privacy in this apartment, especially not with Matt around. He looks at Jun Jie sitting beside him, smiling at him over his second cup of coffee, looking so polished and grown up. He feels like a scrub in comparison.

Come on, you can be a grown up too, he tells himself. If Barney can do it, so can you.

He tries to pretend that Matt isn't listening from the bedroom, and Ai Ming isn't surreptitiously glancing at them from the kitchen. He forces himself to look Jun Jie in the eye.

"I'm sorry," he says.

Jun Jie looks startled. "Sorry for what?"

"I promised I would write and I never did. I was a shitty friend. I mean, um, boyfriend. Ex. I just...I don't know. The more time passed, the harder it got to write anything, you know? I was embarrassed. Sorry."

Jun Jie puts a hand on his knee for a moment, then takes it back again. "Please don't apologize. We were kids and we grew apart. It happens."

"But I let you down. You said, just try to do good. I'm trying but I keep screwing it up somehow."

"What are you talking about? When Ai Ming asked you for help, you were on the first plane out here. You got here faster than I did. You're a bona fide superhero!"

"A what?"

"Sorry, Xin Yi told me about your injury. Should I speak louder?"

"No, you're fine."

"I'm so sorry about what happened to you. How have you been? You know I'm serious, it's ok that you didn't write. All I ever wanted was to know that you were ok, that you're happy."

Clint nods slowly. "Yeah. I'm good. Things have been good."

Jun Jie smiles. "Your boyfriend is a looker."

"He's a pain in the ass, is what he is," Clint replies in a loud voice, just to let Matt know he knows he's listening in. Then in a lower voice he adds, "And you? Xin Yi said you got married-?"

"To a man, of course! What did you think?" Clint just shrugs, and Jun Jie laughs. "Gay marriage has been legal in the UK for years now. I knew after I was with you that I could never stay in Madripoor until the law changes. You know, it was because of you that I realized it was ok for me to be gay. I never regretted anything between us."

"Really?"

"Never."

In the evening, Ai Ming invites Barney and his family over for dinner, with massive amounts of take-out from the local hawker center, and of course elaborate plates of kueh. The kids run around laughing and yelling, while the adults eat satay and curry puffs and bee hoon. Matt lets Jeremiah ride on his shoulders, and Charlie practices his signs with Clint, while Simone gets tips from Ai Ming on where to find the best hawker food.

"You sure we can't convince you to stay longer?" Barney asks.

"No, I promised Aimee she'd only have to watch the dog for two weeks. Besides, Matt has to get back to his cases."

"Come on!" Barney gestures with both his arms out. "When are you going to see everyone again like this?"

"We'll come back, I promise. Maybe next time will be an actual vacation."

Matt laughs. "Are you kidding? This has been the best vacation ever."

Clint turns to Kate. "What about you? Are you coming back to New York or what?"

Kate squirms, suddenly blushing. "I can't just drop everything in LA. I'm going back there for now. Um, we're uh..."

As Kate trails off, Xin Yi clasps her hand. "I go to Los Angeles with her for a few weeks lah, see if I like or not."

Clint stares at them in surprise. "You-?"

Ai Ming is also staring at them, the sides of her mouth turned down. "Wah lau, why my whole family gaaaaaayyyyyyy?"

"Why you so like that ah?" Xin Yi retorts, smiling like she knows her sister is just whining, not being serious.

"Abuden? You act lian buay lian, sibei hopeless lah," Jun Jie adds, dropping his posh British accent and sounding exactly like Ai Ming. Everyone laughs, even if they're not sure exactly what he said. "But to be serious," Jun Jie adds, reverting to his British accent, "she needs to get out of Madripoor, go somewhere more gay friendly."

"But you're ok with us being together, right?" Kate asks somewhat anxiously.

Ai Ming shrugs and rolls her eyes. "Ok, you win already lor."

Kate smiles tightly at her and pulls Clint aside. _I didn't mean her, I meant you_, she signs. _Are you ok with us being together? Sorry I didn't tell you sooner_. She chews her lip nervously as she looks up at him.

_It's fine_. He smiles at her. _What do you mean sooner? We've only been here a few days. What you do is your business._

_So you're not upset? I know she's your friend._

He nudges her on the shoulder with his fist in what he hopes is a friendly gesture but feels awkward as hell. _She's a good kid. Her clothes are weird but if that doesn't bother you..._

She punches him back on the shoulder, much harder, contorting her face with mock embarrassment. _Stop!_

_It's really o-k_, he reassures her. _Have fun in LA._

Much later that night, after eating far too much, after Barney and Simone have taken the kids back home, after everyone has gone to bed, Clint lies in the bed in Jun Jie's old room, staring up at the ceiling in the dark. For once Matt has fallen asleep before him. It feels nice to stretch out next to him. Clint sighs and puts his arms up behind his head. Is this what happiness feels like?

He thinks about what Barney said. Part of him does want to stay here, at least for a little while, enjoy the endless summer. Already he's gotten used to the heat, the feeling of always being slightly sweaty. And the brilliant green trees everywhere, and the food, oh man the food.

This isn't his home, though. He has to get back to his real life. But when he thinks of the rundown old place in Brooklyn, that doesn't really feel like home either, not anymore. After all that place took from him, maybe he's finally ready to let it go. When they get back to New York, he thinks, he'll talk to Matt about moving in to his place in Manhattan. Matt's been hinting at it for a long time. It would be nice to wake up next to him every day. Yeah, maybe it's time.

But for now, they have a few more days before their flight home to enjoy their tropical vacation.

That's it for now! Thanks very much for reading. I don't have any plans to write more of this at the moment, but you never know, maybe there will be more in the future.

I have published two novels on Amazon. If you like my writing here, check them out!

_The Adventures of Tom Finch, Gentleman_

_Love in Touch_


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